WENDELL 


111 


i 


LETTERS  AND   MEMORIALS 

OF 
WENDELL   PHILLIPS   GARRISON 


LETTERS  AND  MEMORIALS 

OF 

WENDELL  PHILLIPS  GARRISON 

LITERARY   EDITOR  OF 

"THE   NATION" 

1865-1906 


CAMBRIDGE 

flrinteB  at  C&e  Ribersfte  flresei 

1908 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION ix 

WENDELL  PHILLIPS  GARRISON       .......  3 

LETTERS 

I.    To  William  Roscoe  Thayer 15 

II.    To  Louis  Dyer 64 

III.  To  George  E.  Woodberry 77 

IV.  To  Frederic  Bancroft 92 

V.    To  Unnamed  Correspondents  " 100 

VI.    To  F.  W.  Taussig 102 

VII.    To  James  Ford  Rhodes 104 

VIII.    To  James  M.  Hubbard 108 

IX.    To  Paul  T.  Lafleur 110 

X.    To  F.  P.  Nash 113 

XL    To  G.  N.  S 119 

XII.    Last  Letters :     ...  130 

FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  THE  NATION 

A  Noteworthy  Anniversary    (From  the  New  York 

Evening  Post) 135 

Forty  Years  of  the  "  Nation,"  W.P.G 142 

Congratulatory  Letters 147 

Farewell  Letter  to  Contributors  on  his  retirement 

from  the  "Nation,"  W. P. G 164 

v 


CONTENTS 

POEMS 

The  Vision  of  Abraham  Lincoln 167 

On  the  Twenty-fifth  Reunion  of  My  Class    .     .     .168 

Forward 170 

Largess 171 

Madonna  in  Heaven 172 

Supplication 173 

Prothalamium 174 

Primipara     .     ' 175 

Post-Meridian:  Afternoon        176 

Post-Meridian :  Evening 177 

Foreboding 178 

At  Greenwood  Cemetery 179 

EDITORIALS  AND  ESSAYS 

Popular  Election  of  Senators 183 

A  Premium  on  Aggression 189 

The  True  Function  of  a  University 194 

Edwin  Lawrence  Godkin 201 

Jacob  Dolson  Cox 210 

Samuel  E.  Sewall 219 

A  Dissolving  View  of  Punctuation 224 

Authority  in  Language 243 

Of  Portraiture 250 

Jean  Jacques  Rousseau 257 

A  Talk  to  Librarians 268 

THE  NEW  GULLIVER 273 

•  .  *  The  frontispiece  portrait  of  Mr.  Garrison  is  from  a  photo 
graph  taken  in  October,  1894,  by  George  G.  Rockwood,  of  New 
York. 


INTRODUCTION 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  aim  of  this  volume,  designed  primarily  as  a 
pious  and  filial  memorial,  is  to  exhibit  some  of  the 
varied  tastes  and  interests  of  the  late  editor  of  the 
Nation,  his  principles  and  convictions,  his  editorial 
methods  and  ideals,  and  some  of  the  influences  which 
shaped  his  spirit  and  conduct.  In  attempting  this  it 
was  obviously  best,  as  far  as  possible,  to  let  him 
speak  for  himself;  though  he  hid  himself  with  so 
much  modest  eft'acement  under  the  mask  of  editor 
ship,  he  had  his  word  to  say  which  concerns  a  wider 
circle  than  that  of  his  immediate  family  and  friends, 
albeit  his  friends  were  many  and  devoted.  No  at 
tempt  was  made  to  expand  the  brief  biographical 
notice  which  appeared  in  the  Nation  and  the  Har 
vard  Graduates'  Magazine,  nor  would  he  himself  have 
desired  or  approved  it.  His  quiet  life  had  its  crises; 
but  they  were  for  the  novelist  rather  than  for  the 
biographer.  The  writer  of  the  "Premium  on  Aggres 
sion  "  and  of  the  verses  in  this  book  had  evidently 
his  emotions  and  his  central  fires.  It  was  a  curious 
feature  of  his  make-up  that  a  man  so  careful  of  com 
mas  and  of  dotting  ?''s  should  at  times  find  natural 
vent  and  expression  in  the  geyser- jet  of  a  sonnet. 

ix 


INTRODUCTION 

The  letters  here  printed  are,  naturally,  such  only 
as  came  to  hand.  The  family  and  friends  of  the  late 
editor  are  under  genuine  obligations  to  the  corre 
spondents  who  thus  risked  a  publicity  which,  on  due 
reflection,  will  not  be  misinterpreted  or  misconstrued. 
Though  they  omit  certain  sides  of  his  tastes  and 
interests,  they  are  a  fairly  characteristic  selection. 
Evidently  it  arranged  itself  into  certain  groups,  and 
was  intelligible  only  by  virtue  of  such  arrangement. 
The  later  letters,  containing  some  autobiography  and 
purely  personal  details,  could  hardly  be  spared  by 
those  who  loved  the  writer.  They  offer  an  image  of 
the  defeated  hopes  and  the  pathetic  ironies  which  are 
common  to  us  all,  faced  with  the  courage  and  sweet 
reasonableness  which  was  his  abiding  trait.  He  was 
disappointed  of  that  long  Indian  Summer  which  he 
had  earned,  that  scholarly  calm  and  leisure  which 
would  have  blest  his  friends  with  its  mellow  fruit. 

The  greater  part  of  the  letters  have  one  special 
merit :  they  admit  us  to  the  editor's  workshop  —  they 
reveal,  on  the  whole,  the  secret  of  his  extraordinary 
fitness  for  his  profession,  his  attention  to  detail,  his 
painstaking  accuracy,  his  unwearied  interest  in 
everything  pertaining  to  his  craft.  He  had,  for  ex 
ample,  prepared  most  of  the  material  for  an  exhaus 
tive  treatise  on  punctuation  and  syllabication,  which 
began  with  the  usage  of  Latin  and  Greek  manuscripts 
and  embraced  a  synopsis  of  the  most  careful  practice 


INTRODUCTION 

in  French,  Italian,  German,  and  English.  Some 
specimens  of  this  larger  work  are  included,  because 
of  their  permanent  value  and  the  vivacity  with  which 
this  instruction  is  conveyed.  As  a  reader  for  the  Ox 
ford  Dictionary,  he  wrote,  for  many  years,  the  brief 
notices  which  at  one  time  used  to  bring  a  solitary 
ray  of  true  appreciation  to  Dr.  Murray's  heart.  The 
letters  addressed  to  X.  and  to  A.  (pp.  100,  101)  are  a 
sample  of  the  endless  patience,  the  almost  quixotic 
labor,  which  his  courtesy  imposed  upon  his  editorial 
conscience.  He  would  write  a  post-card  to  settle  the 
question  of  a  hyphen.  Writers  who  have  had  the 
largest  experience  of  editors  and  their  dealings  can 
best  say  how  often  such  courtesy  and  painstaking 
have  come  within  their  ken. 

Of  his  larger  gifts  and  fitness  for  editorship,  the 
Nation  itself  is  a  sufficient  monument.  His  appren 
ticeship  began  early.  As  a  matter  of  course  his  col 
legiate  standing  was  very  high,  and  he  carried  off 
from  Harvard  College  an  adequate  and  serviceable 
preparation  for  his  future  work.  He  took  a  catholic 
interest  in  a  wide  range  of  subjects,  from  geology 
to  Greek  literature.  At  the  very  period  when  Mr. 
Charles  Francis  Adams  was  a  voice  crying  in  the 
wilderness  for  the  modern  languages,  Mr.  Garrison 
came  away  with  an  accurate  and  sufficient  introduc 
tion  to  German,  French,  and  Italian  literature  — 
so  intimate  and  vital  that  it  is  witnessed  repeatedly 

xi 


INTRODUCTION 

in  his  verses,  his  correspondence,  and  his  editorial 
work.  At  the  same  time  he  practised  his  pen  in  the 
Harvard  Magazine,  he  corrected  proof  in  the  office 
of  the  Liberator,  and  he  managed  to  find  time  to 
supervise  the  education  of  his  brother  Francis,  a  ser 
vice  of  love  and  duty  that  could  never  be  forgotten. 
He  was  therefore  not  a  journalist  by  accident.  He 
swept  all  this  experience  into  his  net.  While  he  had 
a  capacity  for  endless  and  varied  labor,  he  applied 
to  his  task  the  other  qualities,  which  are  inborn  and 
not  made,  and  to  which  the  congratulatory  letters  of 
contributors  are  a  significant  testimonial.  Though 
permission  was  given  to  print  them  in  this  volume  as  a 
contribution  to  the  appreciation  of  Mr.  Garrison's 
work,  they  were,  of  course,  purely  personal  and  pri 
vate  —  a  fact  which  imposes  a  certain  discretion, 
while  their  cordial  spontaneity,  which  wras  never 
intended  for  the  public  eye,  trebles  their  significance. 
Some  names  appear  among  them  which  had  nothing 
to  gain  or  lose  from  any  connection  with  the  Nation. 
In  fact,  Mr.  Garrison,  at  times,  could  persuade  men 
to  write  for  him  who  would  write  for  no  one  else. 
Moreover,  he  used  to  detect,  here  and  there,  some 
remote  personage  —  not  necessarily  decorated  in 
"  Who 's  Who  "  or  in  the  pages  of  "  Minerva  "  . —  who 
could  serve  his  purpose  exactly,  and  could  furnish 
what  he  needed  in  precisely  the  form  and  finish  which 
his  exacting  taste  demanded.  For  such  shy  cattle  he 
xii 


INTRODUCTION 

had  a  sure  and  trained  instinct  —  the  scent  of  the 
Laconian  hound. 

One  luxury  he  permitted  himself  in  the  very  press 
of  business  —  he  made  friends  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
profession.  At  least  one  half  of  his  contributors  had 
never  seen  his  face  and  knew  him  only  by  his  editorial 
correspondence.  But  hardly  a  letter  or  a  post-card 
left  his  hand  which  did  not  contain  some  kindly  or 
considerate  message  —  something  personal,  whim 
sical,  or  humorous,  which  drew  his  correspondents 
into  the  circle  of  his  friends.  He  spread  his  network 
of  delicate,  sympathetic  filaments  to  the  ends  of  the 
world,  enmeshing  people  in  Brazil,  or  Guiana,  or 
Japan,  who  responded  with  a  heartiness,  enthusiasm, 
and  devotion  that  seemed  almost  unreasonable.  So 
wide  a  current  seldom  runs  so  deep.  People  in  distant 
cities  toasted  him  on  his  fortieth  anniversary  of  ser 
vice,  or  scolded  playfully  because  they  had  missed 
the  chance  of  adding  their  names  to  the  testimonial. 
While  he  had  this  rare  aptitude  for  friendship,  he 
steered  clear  of  the  temptations  which  friendship 
begets  for  the  editor.  No  sign  appears  in  his  letters 
or  his  practice  of  the  literary  camaraderie,  so  precious 
and  alluring  in  itself,  so  malapropos  when  it  peeps  out 
of  that  palace  of  Truth  where  the  genuine  critic  is  at 
home. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  Nation  gave  the  impres 
sion  of  having  been  entirely  written  by  one  man.  So 
xiii 


INTRODUCTION 

far  as  there  was  any  truth  in  this  fancy,  it  meant 
mainly  that  each  contributor  did  his  best  for  a  chief 
who  was  sure  to  appreciate  his  best  and  to  take  pride 
in  it.  But  there  was  no  enforced  uniformity.  The 
fact  is  that  he  printed  long  articles  with  the  views  of 
which  he  disagreed  in  detail,  even  on  subjects  where 
he  had  special  information  and  prepossessions.  He 
preferred  to  give  his  reviewer  a  free  hand  :  he  wanted 
only  sincerity  and  fitness :  he  asked  no  better  treat 
ment  for  his  own  best  friend  than  the  candid  judg 
ment  of  an  expert. 

The  extracts  from  the  Nation  include  some  speci 
mens  of  the  editorials  which  he  permitted  himself 
somewhat  rarely,  and  which  are  most  characteristic. 
No  attempt  was  made  to  trace  out  material  for  a  com 
plete  collection  —  which,  indeed,  he  would  himself 
have  disapproved.  The  search  for  such  traces  was, 
in  fact,  like  hunting  for  one  who  tries  to  hide  himself. 
His  hand  rarely  showed  itself,  except  in  the  Notes ;  he 
was  occupied  in  grouping  to  the  best  advantage  the 
labors  of  others,  in  arranging  with  unfailing  skill  and 
taste  the  weekly  symphony.  The  test  of  his  stand 
ards  and  his  ideal  remains  fresh  and  abiding.  Not 
merely  did  he  lay  up  treasures  for  reference ;  but,  in 
fact,  as  our  librarians  appreciate,  a  judicious  reader 
could  never  be  lonesome  in  a  lighthouse,  so  long  as 
he  might  turn  over  the  files  of  that  little  depository 
of  the  thought  and  the  life  processes  of  the  world, 
xiv 


INTRODUCTION 

The  arrangement  of  these  extracts,  while  deliber 
ately  avoiding  chronology,  follows  an  order  which 
will  assist  the  reader  in  reconstructing  some  sides 
of  Mr.  Garrison's  tastes  and  talents  and  character. 
The  Reform  of  the  Senate,  presented  more  eloquently 
in  the  Nation,  was  more  fully  set  forth  in  the  Atlantic 
for  August,  1891.  The  notice  of  Samuel  E.  Sewall 
stands  alone  as  a  specimen  of  his  many  contributions 
on  anti-slavery  subjects;  because  his  magnum  opus 
in  that  direction  already  exists  in  the  "Life  of  Wil 
liam  Lloyd  Garrison."  The  biographical  sketch  of 
General  Jacob  Dolson  Cox  is  a  good  specimen  of 
those  memorial  tributes  to  the  most  honored  of  his 
contributors  which  he  wrote  con  amore,  indulging 
himself  with  ample  room  and  verge.  Others  of  the 
same  class  are  the  obituary  notices  of  Fitz-Edward 
Hall  and  of  Madame  Jesse  White  Mario. 

Nothing  in  this  volume  reveals,  or  could  reveal 
fully,  the  essence  of  that  spell  which  Mr.  Garrison 
laid  on  all  who  met  him  in  his  daily  life,  —  his 
thoughtful  consideration  for  those  who  were  nearest, 
even  if  not  dearest  —  the  devotion  of  his  service  to 
his  friends,  or  to  many  who,  not  being  his  friends, 
had  any  claim  of  need  or  embarrassment.  He  illus 
trated  in  his  practice  the  possibility  of  that  "  brother 
hood  of  man  "  which  is  to  most  of  us  a  sentiment  as 
vague  and  faint  as  the  wind  among  the  reeds,  or  the 
sound  of  an  ^Eolian  harp.  He  illustrated  that  rare 

xv 


INTRODUCTION 

tact  which  is,  in  effect,  the  distillation  of  kindly  feeling 
through  the  brain.  It  was  the  constant  atmosphere 
and  breath  of  his  life.  It  won  the  nurses  and  attend 
ants  in  the  hospital,  as  he  lay  on  his  death-bed,  to  a 
sort  of  reverent  affection.  In  some  of  these  traits  he 
was  the  true  son  of  his  great  father. 

The  interesting  letter  which  explains  "The  New 
Gulliver  "  contains  an  obiter  confession  which  should 
not  be  unduly  emphasized.  It  is  a  confession  which 
he  might  have  expanded  or  modified,  but  wrould  not 
have  withdrawn.  It  is  far  from  being  a  profession  of 
faith  or  unfaith.  His  real  profession  consisted  in  the 
silent  discharge  of  duty  to  his  friends,  to  his  neighbors 
and  fellow  citizens,  to  mankind,  without  rest,  without 
sparing  his  strength,  with  perpetual  abnegation,  in 
the  spirit  of  sweetness,  and  of  conscience  illuminated 
by  the  intellectual  light.  By  his  devotion  to  a  reasoned 
morality,  by  his  absolute  surrender  to  the  voice 
within,  he  belonged  to  the  tribe  of  Socrates,  and 
followed  that  high  and  solitary  pathway,  not  asking 
the  warm  companionship  of  Christian  faith  and 
hopes  which  sustained  his  father's  ideals.  A  single 
generation  of  scientific  thought  and  training  brought 
about  this  divergence,  which  is  not  so  important  as  it 
looks.  The  garb  of  the  saint,  or  moral  hero,  changes 
from  century  to  century ;  his  essence  does  not  greatly 
change.  In  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  century,  both 
father  and  son  might  have  been  leaders  of  the  band 
xvi 


INTRODUCTION 

of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi.  To  the  eye  of  the  final  Arbiter 
watching  our  wandering  through  this  beguiling  and 
illusory  labyrinth  of  life,  the  paths  of  a  Socrates  and 
a  St.  Francis  may  run  parallel,  and  at  last  converge 
to  the  same  goal. 

J.    H.    McDANIELS. 

GENEVA,  N.  Y.,  November  1,  1908. 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS   GARRISON 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS   GARRISON1 

WENDELL  PHILLIPS  GARRISON,  for  forty-one  years 
editor  of  the  New  York  Nation,  died  at  Dr.  Run- 
yon's  sanitarium,  South  Orange,  New  Jersey,  Feb 
ruary  27,  1907,  after  several  months  of  declining 
health,  which  he  bore  with  a  Stoic's  fortitude  and 
more  than  a  Stoic's  cheerfulness.  He  was  the  third 
son  of  WTilliam  Lloyd  Garrison,  the  Abolitionist,  and 
his  wife  Helen  Eliza  Benson,  and  was  born  in  Cam- 
bridgeport,  Massachusetts,  June  4,  1840.  He  passed 
an  eventful  boyhood  in  the  paternal  home,  amid  the 
agitation  of  the  anti-slavery  struggle  and  the  events 
leading  up  to  the  Civil  War.  He  attended  the  Boston 
public  schools,  —  the  Quincy,  the  Dwight,  and  the 
Latin,  and  entered  Harvard  in  1857.  He  took  high 
rank  in  college,  graduated  in  1861,  and,  after  two 
years  of  private  teaching  and  tutoring,  embarked  on 
journalism,  his  first  employment  being  in  January, 
1864,  with  the  New  York  Independent,  then  edited 
by  Theodore  Tilton. 

In  July,  1865,  he  became  associated  with  Edwin 
Lawrence  Godkin  in  founding  the  Nation,  a  jour- 

1  From  the  Nation  of  March  7,  1907,  and  Harvard  Graduates' 
Magazine,  June,  1907. 

3 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS   GARRISON 

nal  devoted  to  high  literary  criticism  and  lofty  politi 
cal  ideals.  As  assistant  editor  of  the  Nation  Mr. 
Garrison  had  charge  of  the  literary  side  of  the  new 
weekly,  and  early  assumed  the  laboring  oar  in  its 
general  management,  Mr.  Godkin  devoting  himself 
more  and  more  to  the  editorial  writing.  On  mat 
ters  of  principle  Mr.  Garrison  was  as  unyielding  as 
Mr.  Godkin,  but  in  his  personal  dealings  with  his 
contributors  he  was  more  tactful  and  less  brusque, 
and  it  was  unquestionably  due  to  these  qualities  that 
he  drew  to  the  Nation  and  kept  a  staff  of  writers 
and  reviewers  which  comprised  the  leading  men  of 
letters  and  science  in  this  country  and  in  Europe. 
With  many  of  these  Mr.  Garrison  entered  into  life 
long  relations,  in  the  course  of  which  the  editorial 
connection  often  became  that  of  warm  personal 
friendship.  This  was  clearly  evidenced  on  July  6, 
1905,  when  more  than  two  hundred  of  the  Nation  s 
staff  contributors  presented  him  with  a  silver  vase 
of  great  beauty,  inscribed  by  Goldwin  Smith  as  a 
recognition  of  "forty  years  of  able,  upright,  and 
truly  patriotic  work  in  the  editorship  of  the  Nation." 
The  accompanying  congratulatory  note  signed  by  the 
donors  assured  Mr.  Garrison  that  he  had  made  "  the 
Nation  for  more  than  a  generation  the  chief  literary 
journal  in  America  —  the  medium  of  the  best  criti 
cism,  and  the  mouthpiece  of  high  intellectual  ideals." 
During  that  long  period  there  were  very  few  issues 
4 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS   GARRISON 

of  the  Nation  which  he  did  not  personally  make  up 
and  see  through  the  press,  reading  all  the  proofs, 
preparing  the  elaborate  index  to  each  volume,  and 
doing  a  vast  amount  of  editorial  labor  to  the  end  of 
maintaining  the  paper's  high  standard  of  scholarly 
accuracy  and  typographical  excellence,  and  all  the 
while  he  carried  on  an  immense  correspondence  with 
his  contributors  and  others,  with  his  own  pen,  a  per 
sonal  touch  that  was  keenly  appreciated  by  them. 
It  is  doubtful  if  his  forty-one  years  of  unremitting 
literary  labor  have  been  paralleled  in  the  history  of 
American  periodical  editorship.  He  also  reviewed 
many  books,  particularly  those  relating  to  slavery  and 
to  the  lives  and  works  of  Rousseau  and  Erasmus, 
upon  whom  he  wrote  with  authority. 

For  the  first  sixteen  years  the  Nation  was  an 
independent  property.  In  1881  it  was  combined  with 
the  New  York  Evening  Post  by  Mr.  Henry  Villard, 
Mr.  Garrison's  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Godkin  becom 
ing,  with  Horace  White  and  Carl  Schurz,  one  of  the 
editors  of  the  Evening  Post,  and  within  two  years 
editor-in-chief.  Under  the  new  arrangement  Mr. 
Garrison  became  literary  editor  of  the  Evening  Post 
and  editor-in-charge  of  the  Nation.  This  position 
he  held  until  his  retirement  on  June  28,  1906,  be 
cause  of  the  rapid  failure  of  his  health,  after  forty- 
one  years  of  association  with  the  Nation. 

His  editorial  duties  confined  him  so  closely  to  his 
5 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS   GARRISON 

office  —  he  took  only  one  real  vacation,  in  1884,  when 
he  spent  two  months  in  Europe  —  that  he  had  but 
little  leisure  for  other  literary  work.  In  1872  he 
published  "  The  Benson  Family  of  Newport,  Rhode 
Island,"  a  genealogy  of  his  mother's  stock.  He  also 
contributed  occasionally  to  the  magazines.  But  his 
great  work  was  the  "  Life  of  William  Lloyd  Garrison  " 
(1885-89),  an  elaborate  four-volume  biography,  in 
which  he  and  his  brother,  Francis  Jackson  Garrison, 
collaborated.  They  made  it  such  a  record  of  their 
father's  activity  in  behalf  of  the  emancipation  of  the 
slave  and  many  other  reforms,  that  it  must  remain 
the  standard  history  of  the  Abolition  movement.  To 
this  monumental  task  Mr.  Garrison  devoted  his  spare 
hours  during  ten  years,  setting  apart  at  least  one  day 
each  week  for  the  necessary  research  and  writing,  and 
producing  a  work  that  is  notable  among  biographies 
for  its  wealth  of  citations,  its  scrupulous  references 
to  authorities,  its  fairness  and  candor,  and  the  liter 
ary  skill  with  which  history  and  biography  are  com 
bined. 

Mr.  Garrison  published,  also,  "What  Mr.  Darwin 
saw  on  his  Voyage  around  the  World  "  (1879) ;  a  col 
lection  of  "Bedside  Poetry"  (1887),  for  the  instruc 
tion  of  children ;  "  A  Parent's  Assistant  in  Moral 
Discipline";  and  "The  Mother's  Register."  Some 
of  his  own  verse  was  privately  printed  under  the 
title,  "Sonnets  and  Lyrics  of  the  Ever- Womanly " 

6 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS   GARRISON 

(1898).  "  Parables  for  School  and  Home  "  (1897)  and 
"The  New  Gulliver"  (1898)  were  the  last  of  Mr. 
Garrison's  published  works,  but  in  1904  appeared 
the  "  Memoirs  of  Henry  Villard,"  the  autobiography 
of  his  brother-in-law,  which  he  edited.  In  1891  he 
printed  a  memorial  of  his  mother-in-law,  Sarah  A. 
McKim. 

As  an  appreciation  of  his  services  to  literature 
and  politics,  Harvard  University  bestowed  upon  Mr. 
Garrison  the  honorary  degree  of  A.  M.  in  1895.  From 
his  undergraduate  days  he  worked  for  the  abolition 
of  compulsory  prayers,  and  in  1886  he  had  the  satis 
faction  of  seeing  that  result  attained  at  Harvard. 

From  1866  to  the  close  of  his  life  Mr.  Garrison 
resided  at  Llewellyn  Park,  Orange,  New  Jersey.  He 
served  for  more  than  seventeen  years  on  the  school 
board  of  West  Orange,  and  also  was  for  years  a  mem 
ber  of  the  board  of  directors  of  the  State  Geological 
Survey  of  New  Jersey.  He  founded  the  New  England 
Society  of  Orange,  which  grew  to  be  a  large  and  useful 
organization,  promoting  local  interests. 

Mr.  Garrison  was  twice  married :  first,  in  1865,  to 
Lucy  McKim,  of  Philadelphia,  daughter  of  J.  Miller 
McKim,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  American  Anti- 
Slavery  Society,  and  sister  of  Charles  F.  McKim,  the 
architect.  She  died  in  1877.  In  1891  he  married  Mrs. 
Anne  McKim  Dennis,  who  died  in  1893.  He  is  sur 
vived  by  a  son  and  daughter,  Mr.  Philip  McKim 

7 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS   GARRISON 

Garrison  (H.  C.  1890),  of  Orange,  New  Jersey,  and 
Mrs.  Charles  Dyer  Norton,  of  Lake  Forest,  Illinois. 
His  oldest  son,  Lloyd  McKim  Garrison  (H.  C.  1888), 
died  in  1900. 

The  following  appreciation,  by  one  of  Mr.  Garrison's 
younger  colleagues,  appeared  in  the  Nation  of  March  7, 
1907  :  — 

Self-effacement  was  so  the  law  of  Mr.  Garrison's 
being  that,  even  now  when  his  lips  can  no  longer 
frame  a  protest,  one  hesitates  to  essay  his  praise.  It 
was  his  lifelong  joy  to  sink  himself  in  his  work.  For 
twenty-five  years  literary  editor  of  the  Evening  Post, 
he  seldom  put  his  name  to  anything  he  wrote  in  its 
columns.  If  he  had  been  an  artist,  it  would  have  been 
his  preference  to  leave  all  his  paintings  unsigned. 
To  the  discerning,  however,  his  true  monument  is 
visible  in  those  eighty-two  volumes  of  the  Nation 
which  passed  under  his  vigilant  eye  and  amending 
pen,  and  into  which  he  poured,  in  all  of  Milton's 
meaning,  the  precious  life-blood  of  a  master-spirit. 

Uneventful  outwardly,  Mr.  Garrison's  life  was  yet 
singularly  intense.  It  was  intense  in  an  austere  ideal 
ism,  ever  conscious  of  the  obligation  of  his  name; 
intense  in  devotion  to  the  labor  which  was  his  delight ; 
intense  in  the  discharge  of  every  duty  as  a  citizen 
and  in  the  unwavering  fidelity  and  unselfish  services 
of  friendship.  His  close  association  for  thirty-seven 

8 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS  GARRISON 

years  with  Mr.  E.  L.  Godkin  was  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  editorial  relations  that  ever  existed.  With 
unbounded  admiration  and  loyalty  for  his  chief,  Mr. 
Garrison  brought  to  his  assistance  a  nice  scholarship, 
a  patient  scrutiny,  a  calm  judgment,  and  a  noble 
sympathy.  Wrhen  Mr.  Garrison  received,  in  1905,  the 
impressive  tribute  from  his  eminent  list  of  contribu 
tors  to  the  Nation,  in  celebration  of  his  forty  years 
with  that  journal,  his  first  instinct  was  to  pass  on 
the  laurel  to  Mr.  Godkin.  He  spoke  of  himself  as 
but  a  pupil  of  that  "  great  writer  and  master  political 
moralist,  wrhom  with  admiring  eyes  I  saw 

"Mount  in  his  glorious  course  on  competent  wing." 

Nor  was  Mr.  Godkin  unaware  of  the  rare  quali 
ties  of  his  colleague.  Writing  to  Mr.  Garrison  in 
1883,  he  said :  "  If  anything  goes  wrong  with  you,  I 
will  retire  into  a  monastery.  You  are  the  one  steady 
and  constant  man  I  have  ever  had  to  do  with."  And 
he  set  great  store  by  Mr.  Garrison's  disciplined 
opinions  on  public  affairs.  Thus  he  wrote  to  him  in 
1891:  "Your  article  makes  me  regret  for  the  hun 
dredth  time  that  you  have  not  been  able  all  these 
years  to  write  more.  I  know  no  better  political  phi 
losopher.  I  can  safely  say  that,  in  twenty-five  years 
of  perils  by  land  and  sea,  there  is  nobody  from  whose 
advice  and  arguments  I  have  got  so  much  comfort 
and  courage."  Yet  Mr.  Garrison's  invincible  modesty 

9 


WENDELL   PHILLIPS    GARRISON 

would  not  suffer  such  acknowledgments  to  go  without 
abatement.  "On  cool  reflection."  he  once  wrote.  "  I 
am  conscious  how  slight  Mr.  Godkin's  debt  to  me  is 
in  comparison  with  mine  to  him.  .  .  .  Oftener  than 
not.  in  doubtful  cases  when  appeal  has  been  made 
to  my  judgment,  I  have  simply  confirmed  his  first 
impulse  or  his  phraseology.  Perhaps  my  sympathy 
and  support,  understood  rather  than  expressed,  have 
been  more  to  him  than  I  suspected.' 

Between  Mr.  Garrison  and  the  large  corps  of 
Nation  reviewers  and  writers  which  he  built  up, 
and  brought  with  him  to  the  Evening  Past,  there 
existed  a  peculiar,  almost  a  family,  feeling.  He 
watched  over  them  with  an  interest  and  pride  well- 
nigh  of  kinship.  The  relation  was,  to  him,  less  edi 
torial  than  fraternal.  There  must  be  thousands  of  his 
letters,  written  out  in  that  beautiful  hand  of  his,  and 
with  his  marvelous  felicity  and  justness  of  expression, 
still  in  the  possession  of  his  contributors  as  a  witness 
to  his  high  conception  of  the  tie  that  bound  him  to 
them.  No  one  could  surpass  him  in  discriminating 
encouragement.  Even  in  his  later  years  he  kept  a 
young  heart  and  a  keen  eye  for  rising  writers.  He 
thought  of  his  band  of  workers  as  one  continually 
to  be  renewed  by  the  influx  of  youth ;  and  if  youth 
brought,  at  first,  immaturity  and  awkwardness,  none 
so  patient  and  tactful  as  Mr.  Garrison  in  bearing  with 
it  and  correcting  it.  Critical  severity  he  could  convey 
10 


WENDELL    PHILLIPS    GARRISON 

with  the  most  exquisite  delicacy  —  wreathing  it  in  the 
garlands  of  friendship. 

To  be,  rather  than  to  produce,  was  always  the 
first  motive  with  Mr.  Garrison.  To  him,  life  was 
more  than  books.  And  how  high  he  pitched  his  life, 
even-  man  who  was  ever  long  in  touch  with  his  grave 
courtesy,  his  unfailing  kindness,  his  unbending  in 
tegrity,  and  his  lofty  ideals,  would  enthusiastically 
testify.  To  be  in  contact  with  him  even  in  a  news 
paper  office  was  to  have  one's  admiration  for  him  kin 
dled  and  continually  heightened ;  while  those  admitted 
to  the  intimacies  of  his  friendship  cannot  find  words 
to  do  justice  to  his  faithfulness  and  self-sacrificing 
ardor  in  bestowing  a  favor  or  anticipating  a  need. 
Mr.  Garrison  impressed  all  who  knew  him  as  a  man 
of  the  well-fibred  virtues  of  an  elder  day.  He  nour 
ished  himself  on  inward  and  hidden  strength.  One 
felt  that  his  soul  dwelt  apart,  yet  one  saw  him  cheer 
fully  laying  the  lowliest  duties  upon  himself.  In  the 
total  combination  of  nearly  ascetic  sternness  with 
himself  and  infinite  consideration  for  others,  we  shall 
not  soon  look  upon  his  like  again. 


LETTERS 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

November  19,  1891. 

DEAR  MR.  THAYER,  —  I  am  glad  to  learn  of  your 
magnum  opus,  which  is  much  needed.  I  have  before 
indicated,  I  think,  that  your  view  of  Mazzini  seems 
low  to  me  (from  the  spiritual  and  ideal  side).  My 
father  was  a  good  judge  of  men  of  his  own  nature, 
and  he  and  Mazzini  were  warm  friends,  though  one 
was  a  non-resistant  and  the  other  a  forcible  con 
spirator. 

Very  cordially  yours, 

W.  P.  GARRISON. 

November  24,  1891. 

I  hasten  to  acknowledge  my  incompetency  to  dis 
pute  with  you  over  Mazzini's  actual  influence  upon 
the  unification  of  Italy  beyond  the  cultivation  of  his 
ideal.  Still,  there  is  danger,  when  we  hold  a  brief 
for  the  compromisers  or  the  "  practical "  statesmen,  of 
assuming  that  what  happened  was  necessary  because 
it  did  happen.  It  will  always  be  a  matter  of  debate 
whether  the  straightforward,  simply  moral  course 
would  not  have  been  better  in  practice ;  and  in  Lin- 

15 


LETTERS 

coin's  case  we  too  often  attribute  to  his  sagacity  what 
was  only  a  sluggish  growth  in  principle,  and  a  learn 
ing  by  experience  that  the  moralists  who  were  all  the 
time  pressing  him  had  grasped  the  situation  truly 
long  before  he  had. 

January  30,  1892. 

I  quite  agree  writh  you  that  the  more  the  facts  come 
out,  the  less  will  Harrison's  bellicoseness  *  count  in 
his  favor  as  a  candidate  for  reelection.  We  have 
passed  through  a  very  humiliating  phase  of  political 
profligacy,  which  shows  that  the  national  conscience 
is  hardly  purer  than  when  the  Mexican  War  was 
planned  and  fought  out.  In  fact,  we  lacked  with 
Chili  the  piratical  excuse  of  annexation. 

> 

June  13,  1892. 

.  So  far  as  I  can  understand  the  nature  of  the  new 
Magazine,2 1  agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  success 
wrill  largely  depend  on  cash  payments.  Certainly  the 
editor  must  be  salaried.  Still,  I  should  hope  there 
could  be  a  good  deal  of  disinterested  volunteering. 
Much  will  depend,  too,  on  the  character  of  the 
conductors  and  on  first  impressions  of  the  form, 
taste,  and  beauty  of  the  printed  matter.  I  have  never 
forgiven  the  Harvard  Monthly  for  its  vulgar  typo- 

1  At  this  time  President  Harrison  was  bullying  Chili. 

2  The  Harvard  Graduates'  Magazine. 

16 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

graphy.   It  will  be  well  worth  while  to  have  sample 
pages  set  up  and  discussed  by  men  who  know  what 

good  book-making  is. 

July  7,  1892. 

I  saw  with  pleasure  the  notice  of  your  appointment, 
in  connection  with  Mr.  Bolles,  to  the  editorship  of  the 
H.  G.  M.,  for  it  is  a  guarantee  of  sense  and  discre 
tion  in  the  management.  Still,  confidence  in  this  direc 
tion  is  somewhat  shaken  by  your  asking  me  to  con 
tribute  to  it !  The  reason  is,  that  I  am  seldom  satisfied 
with  any  writing  that  I  do  for  set  occasions ;  and  then, 
even  when  I  feel  the  necessary  prompting,  I  distrust 
my  ability  to  persuade.  My  best  thoughts,  such  as  they 
are,  I  have  often  seen  fall  flat  and  on  barren  ground. 
But  again,  I  desire  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  speak 
ing  in  meeting  too  often,  especially  as  I  generally 
speak  in  criticism,  if  at  all.  And,  finally,  the  health  of 
my  wife  makes  it  imprudent  for  me  to  engage  to  do 
anything  in  the  future. 

On  the  whole,  I  think  you  had  better  not  count 
upon  me  at  all  for  the  first  number ;  but  I  will  take 
from  now  till  Sunday  to  reconsider  the  matter  and 
give  you  a  final  answer  next  week. 

The  question  of  the  typography  of  the  H.  G.  M. 
ought  not  to  be  discussed  away  from  the  printing- 
office.  Do  you  use  the  University  Press  ?  Then  con 
sult  with  Mr.  Wilson  and  let  him  set  up  some  dummy 
page  in  various  styles.  It  is  the  only  safe  way. 

17 


LETTERS 

As  regards  the  double  and  single  columns  I  have 
no  opinion,  without  seeing  the  specimen  pages,  except 
that  there  is  no  incongruity  whatever  in  combining 
the  two  in  the  same  periodical.  Le  Livre  used  to 
be  an  example  of  this,  if  I  remember  rightly,  and  was 
so  contrived  that  the  two  parts  could  be  bound  sepa 
rately.  This  might  not  be  worth  seeking  for  in  your 
magazine. 

The  Forum  is  not,  to  my  eye,  a  model  of  good 
printing.  It  is  not  an  elegant-looking  magazine,  and 
there  is  no  reason  why  yours  should  not  be.  The 
proportions  of  the  type-page  are  the  first  study,  and 
here  you  will  be  conditioned  by  your  double  columns, 
for  the  narrow  margin  becomes  the  unit  of  the  page 
as  a  whole.  Then,  the  size  of  the  type  for  the  narrow 
measure  should  bear  a  relation  to  the  measure  itself ; 
otherwise,  there  will  be  too  irregular  spacing.  You 
can  see  this  in  the  Nation  any  time.  A  long  mono 
syllabic  word  coming  at  the  end  of  a  line  has  to  be 
taken  over,  and  leaves  an  ugly  gap  to  be  redistributed 
in  the  spacing  as  it  may. 

So,  take  the  printer  into  your  counsels  from  the 
first,  and  trust  not  to  imagination  but  to  sight. 

I  regret  that  I  have  at  hand  no  periodicals  to  refer 
you  to  for  examples.  I  believe  the  English  to  be  in 
the  main  in  advance  of  us,  and  at  the  Athenaeum 
or  the  Public  or  the  Harvard  College  Library  you 
would  have  a  fine  choice. 

18 


TO  WILLIAM   ROSCOE  THAYER 

July  11,  1892. 

A  bright  day  yesterday  and  an  improved  domestic 
bill  of  health  enabled  me  to  carry  out  my  desire  to  serve 
you.  I  have  written  in  the  measure  you  prescribed 
-  1500  words  or  thereabouts  —  and  I  can  copy  it 
off  in  short  metre,  but  I  prefer  to  keep  it  by  me  for  a 
few  days  till  it  gets  "cold."  When  you  receive  it,  ex 
ercise  your  judgment  freely  in  regard  to  accepting  it. 
If  accepted,  remember  it  is  vera  pro  gratis,  as  I  cannot 
work  in  that  way  for  money ;  and  let  me  see  a  proof, 
as  my  hand  sometimes  perplexes  the  compositor. 

The  more  I  appreciate  the  advantage  (for  being 
listened  to)  of  appearing  in  your  first  number,  the 
more  I  doubt  my  capacity  to  help  make  the  number 
attractive.  So  once  again  I  bid  you  judge  and  strike 
fearlessly.  Signed  articles  are  of  course  de  rigueur. 

August  27,  1892. 

I  return  the  proof  of  my  article,  and  will  venture 
the  suggestion  that,  if  it  be  not  too  late,  you  veto  the 
custom  of  your  Press  and  insist  on  italicising  the 
names  of  periodicals,  as  I  have  suggested  on  p.  13. 
See  there  how  the  "Dickey,"  "The  Crimson,"  etc., 
are  treated  alike  as  if  periodicals.  If  you  have  gone 
too  far  in  the  present  number  to  undo,  throw  con 
sistency  to  the  winds  and  get  to  italics  in  No.  2.  It  is 
absurd  to  quote  these  names  in  Roman,  and  to  make 
a  fetish  of  uniformity. 

19 


LETTERS 

October  12,  1892. 

If  my  article  l  in  the  Magazine  is  read,  the  short 
ness  of  it  appears  to  be  justified.  The  Harvard  men 
whose  opinions  of  it  I  have  chanced  to  learn,  have  not 
been  flattering  to  my  vanity  as  a  reformer,  but  I  trust 
the  reading  has  done  them  no  harm,  and  that  in  the 
end  they  will  at  least  praise  your  catholicity  in  ad 
mitting  it.  I  myself  would  also  applaud  Mr.  Bolles 
for  chronicling  the  Dickey  controversy  of  '91 ;  but  I 
wish  he  had  been  able  to  print  the  exact  language  of 
the  pledge  given  to  the  Faculty. 

The  notice  of  Tennyson  2  was  by  J.  W.  Chadwick. 
As  a  H.  U.  Divinity,  1864,  he  perhaps  deserves  that 
you  should  mention  the  circumstance  in*  your  next 
notes,  unless  the  rule  De  minimis  applies  here. 

Best  thanks  for  your  hospitable  bid  to  Cambridge. 
I  have  been  trying  for  six  years  to  get  to  Boston, 
without  success. 

January  4,  1893. 

Certainly  you  shall  have  the  Nation  in  exchange 
for  the  H .  G.  M.  I  'm  glad  you  bespoke  it.  As  I 
wrote  C.  F.  Adams  the  other  day,  who  had  "let  his 
Nation  slide,"  both  politics  and  literature  are  more 
effective  in  the  Nation  than  in  the  Post  because 

1  "The  Alumnus  and  his  Son,"  printed  in  vol.  i,  pp.  13-16,  of 
tbeH.G.M. 

2  In  the  Nation  after  Tennyson's  death  on  October  6,  1892. 

20 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

better  massed  and  more  orderly  arranged.  I  am  ready 
to  greet  the  new  number  of  the  H.  G.  M. 

The  gift  of  your  history  1  is  a  most  agreeable  sur 
prise,  for  which  I  thank  you  heartily.  My  reading  of 
it  will  not  be  either  forced  or  perfunctory,  though  I 
shall  commit  the  review  to  a  better  student  than  my 
self.  I  own  a  weakness  for  things  Italian,  and  in  fact 
I  am  re-reading  Massimo  d'  Azeglio's  "  Niccolo  de' 
Lapi,"  which,  for  all  it  is  a  historical  novel,  is  one  of 
the  documents  of  New  Italy,  to  the  text,  "Che  fan 
qui  tante  pellegrine  spade." 

Let  me  enjoy  your  surprise  in  turn  by  sending  you 
a  work  covering  the  same  ground  as  yours,  written 
in  Italian  by  an  Englishman.  As  I  might  overwhelm 
your  reviewer  by  giving  him  both  works  at  once,  I 
will  entrust  you  with  the  noticing  of  this  at  your 

leisure. 

January  24,  1893. 

In  place  of  your  article  by  Phillips  Brooks,2  you 
will  probably  bespeak  one  concerning  him.  He  was 
certainly  a  great  liberal  force  in  his  denomination 
and  profession,  and  in  the  community.  It  therefore 
all  the  more  disconcerted  me  at  the  time  when  I  was 
catechizing  candidates  for  the  Overseers  on  their 
attitude  towards  compulsory  prayers,  not  only  to  get 
no  support  from  him,  but  to  find  him  treating  the 

1  The  Dawn  of  Italian  Independence. 

2  Phillips  Brooks  died  January  21,  1893. 

21 


LETTERS 

reform  movement  in  an  almost  flippant  way.  My 
father-in-law,  Mr.  McKiin,  became  warmly  attached 
to  him  in  the  days  of  the  Freed  men's  Aid  Associ 
ation. 

February  4,  1893. 

I  have  just  laid  down  your  second  volume,1  fin 
ished,  and  have  to  thank  you  for  a  high  degree  of 
interest  and  pleasure  in  the  perusal,  and  for  a  solid 
addition  to  my  slender  stock  of  information  concern 
ing  the  epoch  under  review. 

My  praise  of  your  performance  would  not  be 
worth  much,  but  I  can  at  least  testify  to  the  im 
pression  of  candor  left  by  it,  and  that  is  certainly  a 
prime  merit.  On  the  whole  you  award  more  to  Maz- 
zini  than  I  had  expected  from  our  previous  corre 
spondence,  and  what  you  say  of  his  vague  utterances 
that  seemed  so  definite  and  plausible  to  his  hearers, 
corresponds  to  my  experience  in  attempting  to  read 
a  work  of  his  in  my  father's  library :  its  abstractions 
were  intolerable  to  my  mind  accustomed  to  the  very 
practical  declaration  and  policy  of  the  abolitionists. 

I  will  requite  my  debt  to  you  ungraciously  by 
pointing  out  three  microscopic  errors  in  Vol.  II  - 
the  first  on  p.  94,  line  12  from  the  bottom,  where  lay 
is  a  slip  for  laid.  In  the  last  line  of  p.  143  we  must 
either  read  Brescia  for  Peschiera,  or  perhaps  west 
for  southeast.  On  p.  186,  line  3,  it  is  clearly  the  left 
1  The  Dawn  of  Italian  Independence. 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

wing  of  the  Piedmontese  army  that  is  intended  — 
not  the  right.  I  trust,  in  no  merely  complimentary 
sense,  that  a  second  edition  will  soon  be  called  for  in 
which  these  rectifications  can  be  made.  Meantime  I 
congratulate  you  on  having  produced  so  graphic  and 
inspiring  a  work,  and  thank  you  anew  for  enriching 

my  library  with  it. 

December  8,  1893. 

I  heartily  congratulate  you  upon  your  marriage, 
and  hope  with  you  that  I  shall  some  day  make  the 
acquaintance  of  your  wife.  .Your  hospitable  entreaty 
brings  up  the  rear  of  a  long  list  of  similar  invitations 
from  Cambridge  men  who  know  me  only  as  editor 
of  the  Nation.  To  be  that,  I  have  to  endure  a  mol 
lusc's  existence,  and  scarcely  budge  from  my  desk 
and  bedroom.  I  can  only  say  it  would  give  me  great 
pleasure. 

Your  Dec.  H.  G.  M.  is  here,  and  I  still  look  in 
vain  for  that  open-letter  department  I  once  bespoke. 
I  feel  now,  not  like  writing  an  article  on  football,  but 
like  writing  a  brief  communication  to  reiterate  my 
conviction  that  the  only  radical  cure  for  the  abuse  of 
athletics  is  to  shut  down  on  intercollegiate  contests, 
or  team-playing  away  from  the  college  grounds. 

April  21,  1894. 

As  Barante's  volume  is  just  in  line  with  your 
Italian  studies,  I  make  no  apology  for  sending  you 


LETTERS 

the  enclosed  proof.  Some  of  the  proper  names  are 
not  to  be  found  in  the  ordinary  dictionaries,  and 
should  you  discover  any  error  I  shall  be  thankful  to 
be  notified  of  it. 

I  am  planning  to  go  on  Monday  to  Boston  for  a 
week,  and  shall  give  a  day  to  Cambridge.  If  I  chance 
to  find  you  at  home  among  the  multitude  of  calls  I 
am  tempted  to  make,  I  shall  be  glad,  but  I  shall  not 

detain  you  long. 

May  3,  1894. 

It  was  a  great  disappointment  to  me  to  accomplish 
so  little  in  Cambridge  in  my  scant  1^  days  there, 
with  no  evening.  You  must  imagine  a  man  endeavor 
ing  to  "  catch  up  "  after  eight  years'  absence,  and  in 
hours  when  most  of  the  instructors  were  more  likely 
to  be  out  than  in. 

Your  brevity  in  the  case  of  Brown  *  is  appreciated. 
I  suppose  my  occasional  indulgence  misleads  many 
of  my  contributors  into  imagining  the  Nation  to  be 

infinitely  elastic. 

June  16,  1894. 

I  will  look  out  for  the  Phillips  Brooks  report. 

It  has  puzzled  me  to  account  for  the  reversal  of 
Eliot's  Class  portrait  in  the  H .  G.  M.,  unless  the 
original  was  a  daguerre.  A  Harvard  man  the  other 
day  wished  he  had  a  die  for  stamping  your  wreathed 
gate-vignette  upon  the  cover  of  his  bound  H.  G.  M. 

1  H.  F.  Brown's  Life  on  the  Lagoons. 
24 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

Would  it  pay  to  provide  such  ?  or  to  have  one 
die  made  and  sell  the  gilt  imprints  on  crimson  ( ?) 
leather  which  could  be  glued  on  to  the  other  side  of 
the  cover  ?  I  visited  the  new  Harvard  House l  here 
yesterday.  It  is  lovely  within  and  without.  I  am 
hoping  my  son  will  have  an  inspiration  to  change 
one  line  of  his  feeling  verses  before  they  get  into 
print.  I  liked  them  for  what  they  refrained  from  con 
taining  —  all  boastfulness,  even  the  name  of  Harvard. 
I  thought  no  Yale  man  could  have  written  thus. 

August  8,  1894. 

I  find  that  the  Post  has  made  very  exhaustive 
arrangements  for  the  Bryant  centennial,2  and  expects 
to  leave  very  little  for  the  morning  papers  to  pick 
up ;  so  your  proposition  confines  itself  to  the  Nation, 
and  I  can  manage  if  I  receive  the  MS.  on  Monday, 
August  20,  though  I  might  not  be  able  to  let  you  see 
a  proof. 

A  page  would  suit  me  better  than  a  page  and  a  half, 
but  I  could  stand  the  latter  if  necessary  (say  three 
thousand  words).  You  can  hardly  attempt  a  report, 
but  may  give  some  report  of  the  weight  of  the  invited 
guests  and  of  the  local  feeling,  and  add  what  pictur- 

1  New  York  Harvard  Club  house,  29  West  44th  Street;  formally 
opened  June  12,  1894.  Lloyd  McK.  Garrison's  poem  is  printed  in 
the  H.  G.  M.  for  September,  1894,  vol.  iii,  p.  27. 

2  Celebration  of  W.  C.  Bryant's  Centennial  at  Cummington, 
Massachusetts,  on  August  16,  1894. 

25 


LETTERS 

esqueness  you  can.     Is  this  not  our  first  poetic  cen 
tennial  ? 

November  9,  1894. 

Your  congratulations  *  are  highly  appreciated. 
The  problem  in  this  city  was  really  to  crush  the  Re 
publican  Machine,  the  Democratic  being  hopelessly 
Tammany.  The  red  herring  of  national  party  poli 
tics  being  removed,  there  was  a  straight  issue  between 
thieves  and  honest  men,  who  happily  outnumber  the 
thieves.  The  latter  we  shall  have  with  us  always. 
Whether  the  Committee  of  Seventy  and  the  Good 
Government  Clubs  can  definitively  suppress  the  Re 
publican  Machine,  the  future  must  decide. 

December  10,  1894. 

The  H.  G.  M.  (these  letters  somehow  always 
remind  me  of  the  Grand  Old  Man)  has  not  yet  come 
to  hand.  I  will  work  prayerfully  at  the  article  you 
mention.2  I  am  firm  in  the  faith  that  President 
Harper  of  Chicago  must  be  put  down.  He  would 
cling  to  the  inter  at  all  hazards.  I  am  for  collegiate 
(home)  athletics  only. 

February  16,  1895. 

Herewith  I  redeem  my  promise  to  you.3  Yesterday 
I  had  a  line  from  Prof.  Fiske,  whose  library  and  villa 

1  On  the  New  York  City  election. 
1  On  intercollegiate  athletics. 

3  W.  P.  G.  had  promised  some  letters  of  introduction. 
26 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

will  enchant  you.    I  learn  that  he  and  Charles  Dudley 
Warner  are  planning  a  tour  of  Spain  in  June. 

The  football  article  is  very  sensible  and  encourag 
ing.  It  lacks  only  the  recommendation  that  inter- 
collegiate  athletics  be  abolished.  That  is  the  strong 
hold  of  kindergarten  fanaticism,  as  I  call  the  present 
rage  for  athletics. 

February  18,  1895. 

It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  offer  to  serve  me  in  Italy. 
I  have  a  standing  Venetian  commission,  but  unhap 
pily  I  have  mislaid  the  precise  information  necessary 
for  the  execution  of  it.  The  house  in  which  Rousseau 
lived  —  a  palazzo,  I  believe  —  wThile  he  was  attache 
to  the  French  embassy,  has  been  discovered,  and 
a  photograph  of  it  (or  identification  of  it  in  exist 
ing  photographs)  would  much  please  me.  It  is  just 
possible  that  the  librarians  or  the  photographers 
in  Venice  know  the  building  and  could  help  me  to  a 
viewr  of  it.  Further  than  such  inquiry,  pray  take  no 
trouble ;  and  I  must  reimburse  you  for  any  expense. 

As  a  preparation  for  Gibraltar,  do  re-read  Wood- 
berry's  fine  sonnets  1  in  Crandall's  collection. 

June  19,  1895. 

You  cannot  be  very  far  from  home  as  I  write,  and 
it  will  please  you  to  take  up  this  week's  Nation  and 

1  First  printed  in  the  Atlantic  Monihly. 

27 


LETTERS 

find  your  Leopardi  letter.1  This  on  Venice,2  which  I 
regret  to  return,  takes  me  into  dangerous  quicksands. 
Needless  to  say  that  I  sympathize  entirely  with  you  in 
your  abhorrence  of  gross  art,  but  I  must  steer  clear  of 
reopening  the  old  controversy  between  lay  and  ex 
pert  opinion  —  in  art  as  in  other  matters.  Grossness 
I  believe  to  be  but  a  passing  phase  in  art  or  in  litera 
ture,  as  in  the  drama.  Protest  and  avoidance  are 
necessary,  but  a  poor  editor  has  to  consider  the  mode 
of  it  and  the  possible  utility  of  it,  and  how  much 
space  he  can  afford  for  rejoinder  and  surrejoinder. 

Mme.  Mario  has  written  in  a  vein  which  shows 
that  she  felt  positively  obliged  for  your  visit,  and  the 
opportunity  it  gave  her  of  showing  her  good-will  to 
me.  I  presume  that  you  missed  Carducci,  and  surely 
that  was  a  pity. 

I  am  extremely  obliged  to  you  for  the  pains  you 
took  in  Venice  over  my  little  Rousseau  commission. 
I  presume  I  have  somewhere  the  title  of  the  book  you 
recovered  for  me,  but  my  notes  are  somewhat  disor 
derly.  Another  occasion  for  securing  the  photograph 

will  arise,  no  doubt. 

June  29,  1895. 

I  thank  you  for  your  Placet  in  the  matter  of  my 
degree,3  and  as  for  my  needy  knife-grinder  biography 

1  "Leopardi's  Home,"  printed  in  the  Nation,  June  20,  1895. 
J  A  criticism  of  the  International  Exhibition  of  Paintings  at 
Venice. 

8  At  Commencement,  June  26,  Harvard  conferred  the  honorary 
28 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

you  shall  have  it  directly.  I  was  too  embarrassed 
when  standing  up  to  be  decorated  to  catch  the  sense 
of  President  Eliot's  compliment,  and  as  these  little 
jeux  d'esprit  are  never  printed,  I  am  likely  to  make 
no  more  than  a  rough  guess  that  my  thirty  years' 
labors  on  the  Nation  seemed  worthy  of  recognition. 

The  President's  allusion  at  the  Commencement 
dinner  to  the  Nation  as  a  controversial  journal,  I 
think  quite  missed  fire,  whether  considered  as  a 
happy  (summary)  epithet,  or  as  enlightenment  to  the 
audience,  nine  tenths  of  whom  had  not  been  in 
Sanders  Theatre. 

In  the  Commencement  haystack  it  is  no  wonder 
we  eluded  each  other,  but  you  had  the  advantage  of 
seeing  me.  My  turn  will  come  some  day. 

August  5,  1895. 

I  made  a  spurt  yesterday  and  finished  Mme. 
Mario's  "Nicotera,"  and  now  send  it  to  you  with  my 
compliments.  On  the  whole  she  makes  him  an  at 
tractive  figure,  and  gives  much  documentary  evidence 
from  which  the  reader  can  judge  for  himself.  Still, 
her  Garibaldian  affection  may  tinge  her  view  at 
least  of  the  later  Nicotera,  and  I  enclose  Stillman's  1 

degree  of  Master  of  Arts  on  W.  P.  G.  President  Eliot  characterized 
him  "hominem  integerrumum,  qui  triginta  per  annos  aut  multa  de 
rebus  civilibus  et  de  vita  populi  Americani  luculente  scripsit  aut 
aliorum  scripta  edenda  curavit." 
1  W.  J.  Stillman. 

29 


LETTERS 

savage  judgment  for  your  benefit.  In  a  letter  just 
received  he  is  harder  still  on  Zanardelli,  whom  he 
characterizes  as  a  sot  and  a  seducer.  I  think  this 
useful  in  showing  how  difficult  it  is  to  judge  public 
characters  from  the  historic  page. 

August  14,  1895. 

I  inscribed  the  "  Nicotera"  to  you,  and  supposed 
you  would  naturally  take  it  as  a  gift.  The  Notes  will 
come  handy  in  these  dry  times. 

The  Mme.1  in  addressing  our  friend  is  a  relic  of 
the  usage  employed  toward  her  when  she  was  in  this 
country  nearly  forty  years  ago.  I  never  met  her,  but 
she  knew  my  wife's  family. 

Greylock  is  not  unfamiliar  to  me,  and  I  should  like 
nothing  better  than  to  be  viewing  it  again  this  fine 
day  from  the  head  of  the  road  up  Florida  Mountain 
from  N.  Adams. 

October  19,  1895. 

Your  note  accompanying  Hodgkin  found  me  ab 
sent  on  a  little  tour. 

I  was  glad  indeed  to  find  you  on  my  side  in  the 
woman-suffrage  matter.  Some  of  our  friends  are  dis 
pirited  by  the  meagre  registration  in  Massachusetts, 
but  it  was  to  have  been  expected.  The  indifference 
and  timidity  of  the  mass  of  women  in  face  of  a  new 

1  W.  P.  G.  always  spoke  of  her  as  Madame  and  not  as  Signora 
Mario. 

30 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

responsibility  are  not  surprising,  and  have  actually 
no  bearing  on  the  question  whether  woman's  interest 
in  the  right  conduct  of  public  affairs  is  in  any  respect 
different  from  man's,  or  whether  the  two  sexes  can 
ever  be  conjugally  united  so  long  as  there  is  any 
question  whatever  which  cannot,  concerning  both, 
be  discussed  by  both  and  acted  on  by  both. 

It  gave  me  great  pleasure  the  other  day  to  procure 
a  note  for  the  Nation,  which  I  hope  you  saw,  on 
that  odious  picture l  at  the  Venice  Exposition  which 
you  condemned  in  your  letter. 

By  this  mail  I  send  a  little  brochure  on  my  father's 
old  partner  in  the  anti-slavery  cause,  Benjamin 
Lundy.  It  is  a  real  if  inconsiderable  addition  to  our 
knowledge  of  the  man  and  his  origin,  and  as  such 
may  merit  a  line  of  mention  in  the  H.  G.  M.  among 
the  other  periodical  articles  by  graduates. 

November  25,  1895. 

It  gives  me  pleasure  to  learn  that  Lloyd  acquitted 
himself  well  at  the  Pudding.2  What  you  say  of 
— 's  remarks  recalls  what  Dan'l  Webster  reports 
Jefferson  (on  a  visit)  to  have  remarked  about  Patrick 
Henry  —  everybody  entranced  on  hearing  him,  and 
left  inquiring,  "  What  the  devil  has  he  been  saying  ?  " 

1  L'  Ultimo  Convegno,  by  Grosso. 

2  Centennial  of  the  Hasty  Pudding  Club,  November  22,  1895. 
Lloyd  McK.  Garrison  read  an  historical  sketch  of  the  Club. 

31 


LETTERS 

January  16,  1896. 

Prof.  [A.  B.j  Hart's  fine  address  on  "Puritan  Poli 
tics"  before  the  New  England  Society  of  Orange, 
N.  J.,  last  May,  ought  not  to  be  omitted  from  the 
Chronicle  of  the  H .  G.  M.  I  send  you  the  now 
printed  copy.  I  think  you  will  find  the  accompanying 
prize  poem  rather  striking  for  a  young  man,  —  F.  L. 
Knowles,1  who  got  his  education  at  Middletown, 
Conn.,  and  is  now  finishing  at  Harvard  in  the  senior 
class.  He  too  may  deserve  mention,  especially  as  he 
is  looking  forward  to  a  literary  career. 

A  copy  of  this  pamphlet  has  gone  as  a  matter  of 
course  to  the  Harvard  College  Library,  and  if  you 
don't  keep  such  things,  perhaps  your  copy  might 
pass  to  the  Cambridge  Public. 

January  27,  1896. 

Suppose  I  hold  "Bertheles"  subject  to  recall  if 
you  get  impatient  ?  I  can  get  over  the  past  date  by 
suppressing  it,  but  it  is  not  so  easy  to  suppress  the 
competition  of  newer  works,  with  reviews  of  which 
my  pigeon-holes  are  full  to  repletion. 

February  21,  1896. 

Your  article  has  drawn  out  the  enclosed  response 
from  the  Guatemalan  consulate.  I  shall  reprint  it  in 
next  week's  Nation,  and  meantime  am  consulting 
a  neighbor  of  mine  who  lived  for  many  years  in  G. 

1  F.  L.  Knowles,  Harvard,  1896*  died  too  young. 
32 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

as  to  the  essential  accuracy  of  Caivano's  picture. 
Barrios  the  elder  more  than  once  threatened  the  life 
of  my  neighbor,  an  Englishman;  and  had  Olney's 
Monroe  Doctrine  then  prevailed  he  would  very  likely 

have  carried  out  his  threat. 

October  16,  1896. 

Thanks  for  both  the  Notes.  I  am  afraid  you  have 
been  reading  Mr.  Godkin's  Essays  with  a  view  to 
noticing  them  in  the  H.  G.  M.,  and  so  may  not 
entertain  a  proposal  which  I  certainly  make  with 
diffidence.  Could  you  undertake  a  notice,  not  very 
long,  for  the  Nation,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make 
it  not  indelicate  to  appear  in  the  Editor's  own  paper  ? 
Mr.  Godkin's  publishers  perhaps  expect  this,  and  he 
himself  is  reconciled  to  it,  even  if  the  notice  be  ad 
verse  —  (but  who  would  undertake  that !)  I  shall  be 
quite  satisfied  with  a  card  of  yes  or  non  possumus. 

January  20,  1897. 

I  have  been  delayed  by  much  occupation  in  con 
sidering  this  essay.  It  is,  as  you  rightly  estimate,  too 
long  for  publication  at  one  time ;  but  also  it  has,  to 
my  mind,  an  "  academic  "  quality  which  goes  ill  with 
my  rather  concrete,  matter-of-fact  Nation.  I  should 
not  call  it  discussion  "  in  the  air "  exactly,  but  it  is 
abstract  to  a  degree  beyond  what  commonly  passes 
muster  with  me  as  appropriate  to  the  Nation. 

I  should  quarrel  with  the  opening  page — by  elim- 
33 


LETTERS 

mating  it.  And  why  is  there  a  pause  in  criticism  any 
more  than  in  poetry  —  with  Lowell  and  M.  Arnold 
bereaving  the  field  ?  All  over  the  world,  poetry  is  in 
half-mourning.  It  will  come  up  again  like  the  grippe 
or  the  cholera  in  due  season.  Fashion  in  criticism 
will  change,  but  the  genius  for  criticism  will  not  come 
by  striving  and  study.  At  least  that 's  my  view. 

March  10,  1897. 

Renewed  thanks  for  your  verification  of  Canzio ; 
and  also  for  Rudini.  In  the  English  and  American 
press  I  have  never  seen  the  name  so  accented,  and 
in  the  Italian  it  has  naturally  escaped  my  eye  more 
readily  than  a  or  6  would  have  done. 

In  recent  books  I  observe  some  new  fangled  use  of 
the  acute  accent  (e.  g.  piu),  of  which  I  have  not  yet 

discovered  the  rationale. 

March  22,  1897. 

I  perceive  that  the  Shaw  monument  is  actually 
going  to  be  put  up  on  Decoration  Day.  The  enclosed 
sonnet,1  accordingly,  may  be  thought  timely  for  your 
next  issue,  whether  in  connection  with  or  apart  from 
the  report  of  the  proceedings.  I  should  be  much 
honored  if  you  thought  so.  It  was  written  many 
years  ago.  Pray  send  me  a  proof  if  you  can  tolerate 
the  verse. 

1  "To  the  Slave  Power,"  printed  in  the  H.  G.  M.,  September, 
1897,  vol.  vi,  p.  40. 

34 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

August  9,  1897 

Let  me  alone  to  sympathize  with  the  journalist 
who  has  no  alternate.  If  I  did  not  enjoy  uniformly 
good  health,  it  would  go  hard  with  me.  Let  me  wish 
you  a  quick  recovery  unretarded  by  the  thought  of 
Nation  jobs. 

My  little  verse  is  quite  correctly  set,  but  I  think  I 
will  ask  you  to  insert  the  rhetorical  dash. 

Reprint  anything  from  the  Nation  always.  Now 
you  have  Professor  Allen  *  to  think  of.  Here  I  am 
quite  unprovided  with  a  notice  myself. 

September  15,  1897. 

"Seignobos"  came  duly,  but  I  cannot  think  the 
book  an  equivalent  for  your  labor. 

The  H.  G.  M.  needs  no  apology,  in  my  view. 
For  myself  I  can  but  feel  honored  in  being  made  a 
constituent  part  of  the  Shaw  commemoration. 

November  16,  1897. 

My  Notes  would  be  improved  by  your  nerves 
being  in  a  convalescent  state  indefinitely,  but  I  will 
not  wish  my  good  at  your  expense.  I  shall  put  the 
nine-holes  in  the  Nation  with  much  pleasure. 

Your  praise  of  my  little  book  2  gives  me  a  satisfac- 

1  Professor  F.  B.  Allen,  of  Harvard,  died  August  4,  1897. 

2  Parables  for  School  and  Home,  by  W.  P.  G. ;  published  by 
Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  New  York,  1897. 

35 


LETTERS 

tion  which  I  will  not  affect  to  conceal.  I  knew  I  was 
working  out  of  the  beaten  path,  and  that  I  had  not 
slighted  my  task ;  but  it  is  so  easy  to  confound  honest 
effort  with  excellent  achievement  that  I  have  not 
flattered  myself  on  any  great  success.  With  much 
confidence  I  have  warned  my  publishers  not  to  form 
great  expectations  about  a  school  use  of  the  book. 
In  the  eyes  of  most  committeemen  the  chapters  on 
the  Flag  and  Patriotism  would  suffice  to  damn  it, 
while  protectionist  Republicans  would  scent  heresy 
in  the  chapter  on  names ;  and  silverites,  jingoes,  and 
other  objects  of  my  concrete  illustrations  will  cry  out 
against  such  teaching  in  the  schools.  I  do  not  say 
that  they  are  wrong,  but  the  book  would  be  worthless 
without  that  sort  of  illustrations.  I  trust  the  libraries, 
even  the  Sunday-school  libraries,  will  take  it  in,  and 
beyond  that  I  am  content  with  the  pleasure  I  have 
given  to  some  two  or  three  hundred  little  people,  my 
neighbors  in  the  public  schools. 

April  16,  1898. 

Though  the  Mass,  senate  has  shelved  your  Notes 
by  shelving  the  bill,1  I  dislike  to  throw  them  away 
with  my  own  hand ;  and  perhaps  you  will  have  cour 
age  —  or  even  lassitude  —  enough  to  file  them  away 
for  use  at  the  next  session,  when  I  think  the  broad 
view  must  surely  triumph.  Yet  broad  views  are  not 

1  On  the  extension  of  the  franchise  for  Overseers  at  Harvard. 
36 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

in  favor  just  now  when  the  thoughts  of  thousands 
fixed  upon  the  reconcentrado  misery  or  the  Maine 
explosion  alone,  are  for  war  regardless  of  rights  or 
consequences. 

November  21,  1898. 

X.,  who  is  one  of  my  closest  friends,  has  been 
treated,  Nation  fashion,  quite  objectively  when 
passing  under  our  critical  harrow,  and  has  almost 
entreated  me  not  to  notice  another  book  of  his.  So  I 
send  you  his  new  volume  on  Italy,  which  I  have  read 
in  a  personal  copy,  and  beg  you  to  accept  it  uncon 
ditionally.  If  anything  pleasant  can  be  said  of  it,  I 
would  print  that :  but  the  author  is  now  past  seventy, 
and  I  would  spare  his  feelings  with  silence  in  place 
of  adverse  criticism. 

December  1,  1898. 

I  do  not  think  my  old  friend  will  feel  hurt  at  any 
thing  in  your  review.  You  have  managed  him  with 
much  consideration. 

Roosevelt's  word  respecting  his  pledges  to  Platt  is 
doubtless  to  be  taken.  His  going  near  Platt  at  all 
with  a  view  to  securing  his  nomination,  I  set  down 
not  so  much  to  subserviency  as  to  ambition,  and 
that  always  forebodes  default  in  principle.  But  I 
am  ready  to  wait.  Governor  Black  this  morning 
forces  his  hand  in  the  prosecution  of  Adams  and 
Aldridge. 

37 


LETTERS 

January  7,  1899. 

Why,  yes.  If  your  strength  permits,  I  think  a  brief 
notice  of  Rocca  would  be  well,  and  you  can  speak  to 
the  translation.1  I  purpose  making  your  reference  to 
it  in  the  Note  already  received  a  mere  vestibule  to  the 
account  of  the  succeeding  work.  This  will  leave  you 
free  in  your  short  review. 

I  may  say  a  word  or  two  about  the  franchise  vote 
when  the  record  is  made  up  in  the  next  H .  G.  M. 
Many  things  I  should  like  to  do  punctually  at  this 
season  were  I  a  Briareus,  or  a  Caesar  capable  of  dic 
tating  to  a  dozen  secretaries. 

February  17,  1899. 

I  don't  know  that  I  have  even  a  pious  wish  on  this 
subject,2  feeling  that  in  the  case  of  all  great  personages 
we  can  get  from  contemporaries  a  sufficient  idea  of 
their  bodily  compositions.  The  painter's  art  is  not 
concerned  with  this,  but  writh  expressing  the  soul  of 
the  man.  So  is  the  engraver's,  and  he  is  not  bound 
to  give  you  the  complexion  and  color  of  the  hair.  A 
superior  consideration  is  artistic  lighting.  Some  of 
the  friends  of  Prof.  Child  complained  that  his  blond 
and  sunny  face  was  not  revealed  in  Kruell's  en 
graving.  True,  but  I  never  pass  that  masterly  print 

1  Autobiography  of  a  Veteran. 

2  A  suggestion  that  it  might  be   possible  for  portrait  painters 
and  engravers  to  furnish  more  accurate  information  as  to  the 
stature  and  complexion  of  their  subjects. 

38 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

on  my  wall  without  a  sigh  (Dante's  "  Sospira ! " *) 
of  admiration  for  the  soulfulness  of  the  characteri 
zation,  which  is  wonderfully  assisted  by  the  rich 
chiaroscuro.  The  conventional  engraving  as  for 
heraldic  coloring  is  inconsistent  with  art  in  portrait 
ure.  Take  Kruell's  whole  series,  and  you  will  find  a 
fresh  treatment  of  each  in  point  of  technique.  This 
was  not  because  Grant  and  Lincoln  and  Webster  and 
Lowell  had  different  complexions,  but  because  the 
character  of  each  called  for  a  different  handling  of 
the  graver.  Hence  the  wonderful  absence  of  manner 
ism  in  his  works. 

August  18,  1899. 

The  summer,  thank  you,  has  treated  me  pretty 
well,  and,  pending  some  alterations  in  my  home,  I 
have  been  and  still  am  living  up  the  North  River  in 
stead  of  in  Jersey.  A  new  and  cheerful  daughter-in- 
law  has  emancipated  me  forever,  I  hope,  from  the  task 
of  ordering  my  own  meals,  which  I  find  abhorrent. 

If  my  old  and  honored  friend,  Gen.  J.  D.  Cox, 
returns  from  his  yachting  trip  before  you  leave  for 
Cambridge,  I  hope  you  will  contrive  to  make  his 
acquaintance,  on  the  common  footing  of  Nation 
contributors.  He  is  a  man  in  a  thousand. 

1  E  par  che  della  sua  labbia  si  mova 
Uno  spirto  soave  e  pien  d'  amore, 
Che  va  dicendo  all'  anima :  Sospira. 
Dante,  Vita,  Nuova,  XXVI,  Sonnet  xv,  12-14. 
39 


LETTERS 

December  30,  1899. 

In<acknowledging,  with  sincere  thanks,  your  notice 
of  Hodgkin,  as  to  whose  length  I  fully  agree  with  you 
for  the  reason  given,  I  send  you  my  last  letter  written 
from  the  office  this  "  sad,  bad  year."  My  contributors 
of  long  standing  are  now,  like  myself,  of  an  age  when 
death  may  any  day  play  tricks  with  them  —  as  so 
lately  with  my  warm-hearted  friend,  Elliott  Coues ; 
and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  exchange  New  Year's  greetings 
with  one  of  a  younger  generation  who  will  stand  in 
the  gap  as  we  fall.  The  current  issue  of  the  Nation 
contains  the  69th  index  I  have  made  with  my  own 
hands.  I  have  a  sentimental  reason  for  wishing  to 
make  the  70th,  for  the  Nation  will  be  as  old  as  the 
Liberator,  and  the  two  journals  will  stand  for  seventy 
years  of  editorial  labor  in  one  family  without  a 
break.  I  hope,  and  believe,  you  have  some  posterity 
to  whom  you  may  hand  on  the  H .  G.  M. 

May  29,  1900. 

Many  thanks  for  your  Note,  an  "article"  which, 
with  the  approach  of  summer,  becomes  increasingly 
welcome. 

I  was  quite  staggered  by  the  length  of  the  notice 
of  Bolton  King.1  The  writer,  though  I  have  him  in 
training,  likes  plenty  of  elbow-room.  He  was  not, 
moreover,  a  specialist  in  Italian  history,  but  I  had 

1  History  of  Italian  Unity. 
40 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

no  better  choice  with  yourself  eliminated.  As  to  the 
substance  of  his  doctrine,  I  am  not  a  stickler  for  the 
impossible  in  a  review  department  —  absolute  con 
sistency.  The  impersonal  Nation  is  not  a  man,  and 
offers  only  the  best  criticism  it  can  lay  its  hands 
upon,  subject  to  very  general  restrictions  of  uniform 
ity  of  opinion.  What  you  say  of  the  chance  of  a 
different  verdict  in  another's  hands  —  like  your  own 
—  might  be  predicated  of  almost  every  book  reviewed. 
I  once  heard  a  lawyer  say  that  in  all  his  experience 
he  never  knew  a  case  decided  that  might  not  equally 
well  have  gone  the  opposite  way. 

Have  you  read  Goldwin  Smith's  two  volume 
"  United  Kingdom  "  ?  I  have  just  finished  it  with 
delight  and  wonder.  Except  occasional  repetitions 
(not  without  utility,  though  unconscious),  I  see  no 

trace  of  old  age. 

June  16,  1900. 

Only  about  once  in  four  years  do  I  get  mad  enough 
to  write  a  political  article;  hence,  "The  Idol."  1  I 
have  heard  almost  nothing  from  it  beyond  your  kind 
approval ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  seems  to  me  sig 
nificant  that  not  a  word  has  come  to  me  by  way  of 

protest  from  my  subscribers. 

August  17,  1900. 

The  Post's  Supplement  Editor  tells  me  his  policy 
is  to  exclude  politics  as  much  as  possible  from  his 

1  Leading  editorial  in  the  Nation,  June  7,  1900,  p.  430. 
41 


LETTERS 

department,  and  this  debars  him  from  entertain 
ing  your  article,  apart  from  its  length,  which  would 
be  about  three  and  one  half  columns.  For  my  part, 
while  inclined  to  agree  with  your  view  of  the  utility 
of  refreshing  the  memory  of  the  methods  of  the 
British  imperial  expansion,  I  fear  you  may  produce 
two  undesirable  effects  —  a  revival  of  our  old  sense 
less  antipathy  to  England,  and  a  weakening  of  our 
sensitiveness  to  the  best  English  opinion  applied 
to  our  own  shortcomings.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
American  imperialist's  conscience  will  be  soothed 
by  England's  example,  or  acquitted  if  he  thinks 
our  atrocities  actually  fall  short  of  England's.  —  A 
friend,  by  the  way,  who  has  a  cousin  serving  in  the 
Philippines,  hears  from  him  that  to  Filipinos  sus 
pected  of  withholding  information  our  officers  apply 
the  water  torture. 

It  is  truly  to  be  regretted  that  you  failed  to  meet 
General  Cox.  I  am  still  without  particulars  of  his 
latter  end,  except  that  he  died  of  heart-failure,  as 
the  phrase  is,  after  at  least  a  week's  prostration. 

October  19,  1900. 

I  am  mortified  to  find  that  I  overlooked  the  entry 
I  made  of  your  wish  for  Hazlitt.  Partly,  I  suppose, 
I  was  misled  on  finding  it  an  old  work  vamped ; 
but,  also,  I  perceive  that  I  sent  it  off  in  the  midst 
of  my  fresh  grief  over  my  son,  when  it  is  a  wonder 

42 


TO  WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

that   I   could    remember  anything.     I   beg  you  to 
excuse  me. 

I  must  thank  you  as  one  of  a  multitude  of  friends 
who  have  sought  to  comfort  me  in  my  bereave 
ment.1 

October  27,  1900. 

Excuse  my  delay  in  judging  this  review,  as  I  am 
in  the  shadow  of  a  fresh  affliction  impending.2  It 
seems  to  me  that  A.'s  contentions  are  set  forth  at 
undue  length,  and  left  scarcely  assailed  —  with  the 
result  that  those  who  cannot  take  his  measure  from 
them  will  be  likely  to  be  misled  and  perhaps  tempted 
to  buy  his  book  —  which  you  do  not  desire.  I  will 
not  disagree  with  you  as  to  the  desirability  of  exposing 
him,  but  I  think  it  should  be  done  more  briefly  and  in 
a  lighter  tone.  In  economic  fields  he  seems  to  me  to  be 
a  charlatan. 

November  19,  1900. 

Your  appreciation  of  Lloyd's  verse  on  the  me 
morial  leaflet  leads  me  to  send  for  your  acceptance 
the  little  collection  from  which  they  were  taken.  But 
you  must  not  acknowledge  receipt  of  it. 

Thank  you  very  much  for  the  two  letters,  in  a 
hand  which  the  printers  mistook  for  my  own,  and 
for  whose  badness  I  used  to  chide  him. 

He  could  fain  have  taken  to  letters,  nor  did  I  op- 

1  The  death  of  his  son  Lloyd. 

2  The  illness,  happily  not  fatal,  of  his  grandson. 

43 


LETTERS 

pose  him ;  but  as  it  was  preferably  by  way  of  journal 
ism,  I  held  him  to  the  learning  of  his  legal  profession, 
for  the  sake  of  greater  maturity.  He  relucted,  but 
thanked  me  in  the  end,  though  his  Muse  was  virtu 
ally  silenced.  With  time  and  leisure  she  might  have 
found  her  voice  again,  but  he  was  essentially  pre 
cocious,  and  illustrated  Havelock  Ellis's  thesis  that 
the  new-born  babe  represents  the  crest  of  the  wave 
of  human  development :  we  decline  in  approaching 
manhood.  Lloyd  had  a  glimpse  of  this  in  the  stanza 
called  "  Manque  "  at  the  very  close. 

December  6,  1900. 

My  desultory  reading  in  Italian  has  thrown  me 
more  with  Petrarch  than  with  Dante,  partly  in  con 
sequence  of  an  early  attempt  to  translate  some  of  P.'s 
sonnets,  and  this  has  been  one  reason  why  I  did  not 
join  the  Dante  Society.  I  should  like  to  hear  your 
lectures,  in  which  your  illustrations  of  the  lyrical 
poetry  will  probably  have  to  be  translated  —  by  your 
self  or  others. 

I  have  just  received  the  H.  G.  M.,  and  am  as 
much  surprised  as  gratified  by  the  detailed  ac 
count  of  my  son  under  his  Class  report.  I  could  not 
have  drawn  it  up  myself,  and  it  is  in  some  sense 
a  revelation  of  interests  and  activities  beyond  my 
ken. 


44 


TO    WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

LLEWELLYN  PARK,  ORANGE,  N.  J., 
June  3,  1902. 

I  dedicate  to  you  the  closing  hours  of  my  62d 
year,  and  will  begin  by  thanking  you  for  your  note 
about  the  H.  G.  M.,  which  is  very  illuminating. 
It  makes  me  blush  to  think  that  I  should  have  placed 
myself  among  those  who  would  overwhelm  you  with 
verse ;  l  and  I  have  not  even  so  good  an  excuse  as  the 
author  of  the  threnody  on  Dr.  Peabody.  There  is,  to 
be  sure,  a  sort  of  connection  between  Harvard  and 
ex-President  Cleveland,  to  whom  my  sonnets  relate; 
but  it  will  not  serve,  and,  as  I  hinted,  what  I  have  to 
say  in  apostrophizing  him  might  seem  calculated  to 
give  offence,  both  in  praise  and  in  dispraise.  So  I 
will  lock  up  the  fourteeners,  and  if  the  Nation  and  I 
outlive  Cleveland,  I  may  print  the  sonnets  in  my  own 
paper,  whose  rule,  by  the  way,  not  to  print  original 
verse,  agrees  with  yours.  It  is  so  convenient ! 

I  dare  say  I  used  too  broad  an  expression  in  sug 
gesting  a  certain  competition  with  the  literary  mag 
azines,  but  I  had  in  mind  the  natural  readiness  of 
some  writers  to  address  the  Harvard  audience  above 
all  others.  I  did  not  realize  how  much  your  cadre 
was  strained  to  accommodate  purely  college  material. 

1  W.  P.  G.  had  sent  me  two  sonnets  on  President  Cleveland, 
which  I  reluctantly  returned  to  him,  as  the  Graduates'  Magazine 
did  not  print  original  verse.  I  mentioned  the  fact  that  recently 
a  four-hundred  line  threnody  on  Dr.  A.  P.  Peabody  had  been  re 
ceived.  —  W.  R.  T. 

45 


LETTERS 

Yesterday  I  had  occasion  to  direct  a  friend  about 
to  go  to  Venice  and  wanting  a  commission,  to  the 
house  occupied  by  J.  J.  Rousseau  during  his  con 
nection  with  the  French  embassy.  This  made  re 
course  necessary  to  the  information  conveyed  in  a 
note  from  you  many  years  ago,  as  you  will  remember. 
My  friend  will  now  kodak  the  palace  for  me,  and 
your  kindness  will  bear  fruit  at  last.  It  was  a  plea 
sure  to  recall  my  indebtedness  to  you. 

July  11,  1902. 

There  have  been  occasional  lapses  from  the 
Post's  rule  not  to  print  original  verse,  but  the  only 
case  I  remember  was  smuggled  in  under  Personals, 
and  was  "  a  very  little  one  "  at  that  —  rather  for  the 
sake  of  the  man  commemorated  than  of  the  poet. 
For  months  or  even  years  I  have  seen  a  Chicago  poet, 
Bertrand  Shad  well,  a  voice  crying  in  the  wilderness 
against  Imperialism,  shut  out  from  the  Post  by  the 
same  rule.  The  peace  and  convenience  sought  to 
be  attained  by  this  exclusiveness  would,  I  am  sure, 
be  imperilled  by  printing  the  enclosed,  and  this  is 
only  one  more  instance  of  self-denial  in  not  making 
use  of  the  poetic  weapon  also  in  fighting  the  madness 
of  the  hour. 

I  was  glad  to  learn  (first  from  the  letter  printed 
in  yesterday's  Nation)  of  the  silence  that  greeted 
Roosevelt's  whitewashing  of  Lodge  at  Commence- 

46 


TO   WILLIAM  ROSCOE   THAYER 

ment.  It  was  truly  a  good  sign.  I  can  but  think,  as 
"A.  L.  T."  intimates,  that  there  has  been  a  fall 
ing  off  in  the  tone  of  Commencement,  parallel  with 
the  lowering  of  tone  everywhere  in  the  past  four 
unhappy  years. 

Thanks  for  your  salty  invitation  to  Magnolia.  I 
am  about  to  indulge  in  my  substitute  for  old  ocean 
—  a  bath  at  the  Battery  on  the  incoming  tide. 

September  29,  1902. 

Your  feeling  about  the  [coal]  strike  has  long  been 
mine.  .  .  .  Instead  of  chattering  about  Trusts,  Roose 
velt  might  better  ask  what  power  he  has  to  secure 
fuel  for  the  Navy  and  the  Government  offices  every 
where  as  against  a  blockade  more  vigorous  than  any 
foreign  fleet  could  effect.  The  Imperialists  say  it  is  a 
poor,  cabined  country  that  can't  own  colonies ;  what 
is  it  that  can't  dissolve  an  artificial  famine  paralyz 
ing  industry,  multiplying  idleness,  shutting  up  the 
schools,  and  bringing  distress  into  every  household  ? 
You  may  think  it  opportune  to  contrast  Lady  Duff 
Gordon's  Egypt 1  with  that  of  to-day,  but  briefly  if 

possible. 

October  1,  1902. 

Gov.  Crane  passed  through  the  city  this  morning 
bringing  very  little  cheer  from  the  White  House.   He 
wants  the  President  brought  on  the  scene  as  a  medi- 
1  In  a  new  edition  of  her  Letters. 

47 


LETTERS 

ator  *  —  a  role  for  which  I  think  him  very  little 
fitted,  nor  do  I  believe  this  is  what  the  times  call  for. 

November  3,  1902. 

The  qualified  assent  I  gave  in  my  last  letter  to  your 
request  for  "The  Renaissance"  was  inspired  by  a 
sort  of  instinct  that  the  book  might  be  solicited  from 
a  quarter  which  I  could  not  well  deny.  This  morn 
ing's  mail  brings  me  such  a  request  from  Mr.  Bryce, 
who  is  now  so  busy  with  politics  that  I  am  only  too 
thankful  to  seize  an  opportunity  to  pin  him  with  a 
promise  to  review  for  me.  This  is  one  of  those  moral 
claims,  as  opposed  to  specific,  which  I  have  to  regard 
if  I  look  beyond  the  performance  of  a  particular  task. 
To  attach  Mr.  Bryce  to  the  Nation  is  certainly  a 
consummation  worthy  of  editorial  striving. 

I  should  have  been  glad  to  compromise  with  you 
by  sending  you  the  book;  but  Mr.  B.  asks  for  that 
also.  If  I  understand  Mr.  B.  aright,  he  bespeaks 

the  entire  series. 

November  17,  1902. 

I  printed  my  little  version  of  Carducci  primarily 
to  send  to  him  in  acknowledgment  of  his  courtesy  in 
inscribing  the  volume  of  his  Poems  given  me  by  our 
friend  Mme.  Mario.  Then  I  thought  I  would  at  least 
share  his  Italian  with  friends  interested  in  the  lan 
guage,  and  with  others  whose  hospitality  reflected 

1  In  the  coal  strike. 
48 


TO   WILLIAM  ROSCOE   THAYER 

the  spirit  of  the  amiable  inhabitants  of  Villa  Aven- 
zano.  His  metres  —  Italian  metres  generally  —  are 
quite  beyond  me.  By  hazard  I  struck  an  English  one 
which  required  no  padding,  and  the  thing  whistled 
itself.  I  cannot  think  myself  up  to  Leopardi. 
Hearty  congratulations  on  your  decoration.  "  Serena 

t'  adorne,"  and  deservedly. 

December  8,  1902. 

I  will  take  your  M[artinengo]  C[esaresco]  letter  in 
lieu  of  a  formal  notice  of  the  "Lombard  Studies," 
printing  it  at  my  first  opportunity,  but  perhaps  not 
till  after  the  turn  of  the  year,  and  probably  omitting 
your  opening  gunpowder,  sententiae  generates  about 
women  authors,  which  might  provoke  controversy  in 
these  days  when  we  are  constantly  being  overhauled 
for  writing  "  Mr."  against  some  initialed  name  of  high 
worth  in  learning  and  letters. 

December  22,  1902. 

I  despoil  the  bulky  Christmas  number  of  Madame 
to  send  you  the  enclosed,  fresh  from  Italy  and  per 
haps  from  your  Countess.  It  clearly  belongs  to  you. 

Your  approval  of  my  long  service  here  was  very  flat 
tering.  In  default  of  other  qualities,  may  it  be  remem 
bered  by  others  than  yourself  that  I  have  stuck.  I  had 
a  sentimental  ambition  to  equal  my  father's  term  with 
the  Liberator,  but  now  I  have  surpassed  that,  while 
he  and  I  together,  with  the  least  overlapping,  have 
been  journalists  for  seventy-six  years.  His  works  do 

49 


LETTERS 

follow  him ;  and  the  high  and  composite  constitution 
of  the  Nation  will  ensure  the  semblance  of  my  works 

following  me. 

February  5,  1903. 

I  make  haste  to  inscribe  you  as  our  special  corre 
spondent  at  the  International  Historical  Congress,1 
and  to  thank  you  for  the  happy  thought  of  serv 
ing  the  Nation.  May  the  medical  reasons  for  going 
abate  before  your  return.  I  believe  I  have  no  com 
mission  for  Italy  unless  you  should  meet  Mme.  Mario 
in  Florence,  when  my  warm  regards  as  always.  I 
have  long  been  expecting  to  hear  from  her,  and  fear 
she  may  be  ill,  if  not  uncommonly  busy. 

It  was  kind  of  you  to  send  me  Lloyd's  review.  I 
believe  I  read  it  at  the  time,  but  I  shall  be  glad  to 
do  so  again.  His  thoughts  had  always  a  literary 
bent,  and  in  our  briefest  unclouded  interview  on  his 
death-bed  he  expressed  his  joy  in  contributing  to 
the  Nation  with  my  approbation.  Ay  de  mi  ! 

My  best  wishes  attend  you,  dear  Mr.  Thayer. 

May  19,  1903. 

A  most  agreeable  surprise,  truly,  and  very  thought 
ful  on  your  part,  this  lovely  book  on  Venice.2  It  will 
help  repair  my  imperfect  personal  acquaintance  with 
the  peninsula,  with  Florence  for  my  single  city  to  set 
foot  in.  Hearty  thanks  for  the  gift  and  for  the  fitting 

1  Met  at  Rome,  April,  1905.  2  Molmenti's  Venezia. 

50 


remembrance.    I'm  glad  the  book  was  beyond  our 
custom-house  extortion. 

As  it  is  always  the  unexpected  that  happens  to  the 
Nation,  one  thing  after  another  has  kept  back 
Count  Gnoli's  letter,  and  now  I  will  enclose  proof 
for  your  kind  revision;  the  MS.  was  sometimes  a 
little  blind.  Delay  is  of  no  moment,  I  think. 

Your  inquiry  finds  me  in  my  usual  good  health 
—  and  harness.  I  am  going  up  to  Albany  for  two 
days  at  the  end  of  this  week,  and  I  have  absolutely 
no  other  plan  for  a  vacation  this  year.  One  summer 
job  is  passing  through  the  press,  the  Memoirs  of  my 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Villard.  As  it  is  a  family  affair  in 
the  manufacture,  we  take  our  time. 

July  22,  1903. 

I  think  that  I  have  already  written  that  my  plethora 
of  reviews  has  rather  suddenly  changed  to  an  em 
barrassing  dearth,  so  that  you  need  not  stint  your 
self  in  the  review  of  Florence. 

October  2,  1903. 

Mr.  Cutter's  death  has  supplied  the  inevitable 
obituary  for  your  next  issue.  Ere  long  the  fortes 
ante  Agamemnona  —  the  good  men  before  the  ath 
letic  period  —  will  have  disappeared,  and  left  the 

Milos  to  match  'em. 

November  2,  1903. 

At  this  moment,  of  all  my  readers,  to  you  alone 
has  it  occurred  to  congratulate  me  on  the  2000th 

51 


LETTERS 

issue  of  the  Nation.  I  am  correspondingly  grateful 
for  this  remembrance,  and  for  the  friendly  and  dis 
criminating  words  you  employ  with  reference  to 
myself.  It  is  more  difficult  to  "  hold  the  rudder  true  " 
than  in  Mr.  Godkin's  lifetime,  and  vastly  more 
laborious.  Books  multiply  and  assistance  in  the 
office  does  not ;  and  even  what  I  take  over  from  the 
Post  I  must  scrutinize  in  every  respect,  refashion 
ing  constantly,  sometimes  adapting  faute  de  mieux. 
My  chief  comfort  lies  in  the  sustained  companionship 
with  the  spiritually  minded,  and  in  maintaining  for 
them  a  forum  where  they  meet  gladly  and  speak  their 
messages  freely.  My  chief  regret  in  the  cessation  of 
the  paper  would  be  the  closing  of  this  forum.  Whether 
the  Nation  survive  its  3000th  issue  or  not,  one  thing 
is  certain,  that  I  shall  never  superintend  it.  Those 
who  know  me  not  in  that  day  will  perhaps  thank 
me  for  my  indexes  thus  far.  In  this  trade  I  might 
not  immodestly  compare  myself  with  the  late  W.  M. 
Griswold.  I  am  just  now  indexing  the  Memoirs  of 
Mr.  Villard  —  an  autobiography  —  to  appear  prob 
ably  in  the  spring. 

January  18,  1904. 

I  agree,  with  you,  that  every  one  who  ever  wrote  a 
sonnet  should  be  fined ;  in  token  of  which  I  enclose 
five  dollars  for  the  Petrarch  fund.1  It  mortifies  me 

1  In  celebration  of  the  six  hundredth  anniversary  of  Petrarch's 
birth. 

52 


TO   WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

to  have  to  confess  that  if  the  five  were  leviable  per 
offence,  then  my  obligation  would  be  $100 ! 

January  20,  1904. 

I  would  not  have  you  misread  my  confession  of 
weakness  into  a  hundred  sonnets.  Twenty  multiplied 
by  $5  would  give  $100  as  the  measure  of  my  fine, 
piece  by  piece.  Three  of  these  are  translations  from 
Petrarch  himself,  and  in  spite  of  my  father's  pre 
dilection  for  the  form,  it  looks  as  if  I  might  never 
have  written  a  sonnet  but  for  Petrarch,  and  (imme 
diately)  Mr.  Higginson.  So  I  may  as  well  cast  the  first 
stone  on  his  cairn. 

December  13,  1904. 

I  observe  in  your  December  *  batch  of  first-ten 
scholars  that  I  am  set  down  as  "  editor  of  the  Nation 
since  1866."  This  cheats  the  paper  of  a  year,  and 
Mr.  Godkin  of  his  headship  for  at  least  fifteen  years. 
"Literary  editor  since  1865"  wTould  be  nearer  right; 
from  1881  till  Mr.  Godkin  withdrew  I  was  in  a  limbo 
of  chief  editorship  hard  to  describe  except  as  limited 
monarchy.  Now  I  consult  nobody  as  to  what  I  shall 
say  or  print,  but  am  conditioned  still  by  what  the 
Post  affords  for  selection. 

I  do  not  write  for  correction,  still  less  for  an  ac 
knowledgment  of  this  scrawl. 

1  Harvard  Graduates'  Magazine. 
53 


LETTERS 

February  11,  1905. 

I  should  be  sorry  not  to  associate  myself  with  an 
enterprise  such  as  the  securing  of  Mr.  Norton's 
library  for  Harvard ;  I  am  more  sorry  not  to  be  able 
to  give  more  than  a  token  to  it,  which  I  enclose.  A 
scholar's  books  have  an  overtone  which  greatly  en 
hances  their  value  for  public  examination  and  use. 

April  8,  1905. 

I  have  lately  drifted  into  the  habit  of  printing 
without  "quotes"  the  ^Eneid,  Odyssey,  etc., —  cer 
tain  classics  loosely  defined. 

Odin  Roberts  has  submitted  to  me  his  review  of 
Religious  Reform  at  Harvard,1  and  I  have  corrected 
it  so  far  as  in  me  lay.  It  wrill  probably  go  to  you 
shortly.  It  is  a  quite  unvarnished  tale,  and  free  from 
padding ;  so  I  hope  its  length  will  not  prove  unman 
ageable.  I  much  wanted  to  extend  it  by  a  little 
philosophizing,  but  it  is  not  my  article  or  prompted 

by  me. 

April  23,  1905. 

Thank  you  heartily  for  your  gift,  which  is  certain 
to  minister  to  my  pleasure  and  enlightenment.  I 
took  up  Italian  after  leaving  college,  and  to  test  my 
command  of  the  language  I  sought  at  random  for  an 
Italian  work  in  the  Boston  Public  Library's  Cata- 

1  Printed  in  the  Harvard  Graduates'  Magazine,  December,  1905, 
vol.  xiv,  p.  226. 

54 


TO   WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

logue.  The  chance  fell  upon  General  Pepe's  narrative 
of  the  defence  of  Venice  —  a  chapter  which  does  not 
fall  within  the  scope  of  your  narrative.  Thus  I  may 
be  said  to  have  entered  Italy  through  your  gateway. 
Florence,  through  Dante  and  Petrarch,  came  later. 

I  shall  have  to  think  a  little  before  choosing  a  critic, 
but  without  regard  to  the  need  of  "softening." 

My  day  in  Cambridge  proved  to  be  far  too  short, 
and  all  my  calls  were  futile  except  on  Mr.  Norton, 
which  was  pre-arranged.  I  shall  long  remember  our 
pleasant  hour  together  in  the  Historical  Society's 

Rooms  and  afoot. 

July  6,  1905. 

I  had  hardly  read  your  letter  of  yesterday  l  than 
the  full  force  of  the  amiable  conspiracy  engineered 
by  yourself  and  my  classmate  McDaniels  burst 
upon  me.  The  vase  —  the  inscription  —  the  address 
—  the  signatures  (such  a  roll  of  honor !)  —  left  me 
overwhelmed ;  and  the  publicity  deemed  necessary  in 
to-day's  Post  gives  me  positive  pain.  "Methinks 
I  am  too  happy  to  be  glad,"  as  Keats  says.  Indeed, 
I  cannot  view  this  testimonial  with  dry  eyes.  It  shall 
not,  however,  delude  me  into  thinking  that  I  count 
for  very  much,  or  into  forgetting  how  much  of  wrhat 
seems  to  belong  to  me  is  my  great  inheritance  from 
Mr.  Godkin,  and  the  support  of  the  very  men  who 

1  Congratulating  W.  P.  G.  on  his  forty  years'  editorship  of  the 
Nation. 

55 


LETTERS 

have  devised  the  flattering  token.  To  my  father  and 
my  constitution  I  owe  my  power  to  endure,  and  I  was 
on  the  point  of  sending  you  (as  I  now  do)  proof  of 
my  persistency  in  another  sphere  of  public  service. 
My  "  Remarks  "  are  by  no  means  intended  for  notice 
in  the  H.  G.  M.,  but  solely  as  a  bit  of  biography 
which  may  interest  you  for  a  moment. 

With  difficulty  can  I  frame  an  expression  of  thanks 
for  your  share  in  so  affectionate  an  outpouring  as  I 
now  labor  under.  With  your  frequent  disinterested 
v os  non  vobis  I  was  familiar,  but  I  never  expected  it  to 
operate  in  my  own  behalf.  Your  private  letter  would 
have  answered  every  purpose,  and  of  this  I  can  only 
say  that  I  prize  it  in  even  measure  with  the  warm 
regard  in  wyhich  I  have  long  held  you.  It  is  cheering 
to  learn  that  if  one  fails  to  perceive  the  prevalence  of 
the  sentiments  he  utters,  or  the  success  of  the  cause 
which  he  champions,  he  has  still  earned  the  good 
opinion  of  those  whom  he  has  immediately  addressed, 
and  with  whom  he  has  labored  for  noble  ideals. 

Believe  me,  most  gratefully  yours. 

July  10,  1905. 

Your  "  Cavour  "  is  very  welcome.  As  I  go  out  of 
town  on  Wednesday  for  the  remainder  of  the  week,  I 
shall  hold  the  notice  as  a  vacation  nest-egg. 

A  Jewish  friend,  one  of  your  co-signatories  of  the 
"congratulatory  note,"  assures  me  that  you  needed 

56 


TO   WILLIAM  ROSCOE   THAYER 

to  make  no  apology  for  your  characterization  of 
Lassalle's  affair.1 

Every  mail  shows  how  wide-spread  has  been  your 
and  McDaniels's  contagion ;  and,  alas !  I  must  make 
myself  a  topic  for  the  Nation. 

September  18,  1905. 

I  have  always  thought  that  preserving  an  equal 
good-wTill  for  all  my  staff,  I  paid  them  the  highest 
respect  and  did  them  the  greatest  service  by  procur 
ing  such  criticism  for  their  own  work  as  the  Nation 
regularly  metes  out.  In  the  case  of  your  "Venice" 
my  customary  procedure  was  exactly  followed,  while 
the  reviewer  availed  himself  to  the  full  of  my  latitude 
as  to  space.  So,  notwithstanding  your  natural  riposte 
where  censure  has  been  indulged  in,  I  trust  you  will 
on  reflection  be  satisfied  that  things  have  taken  their 
normal  course,  with  a  friendly  editor  and  not  un 
friendly  critic,  and  no  instructions  or  bias  communi 
cated  from  one  to  the  other.  If  I  felt  quite  sure  that 
your  letter  was  intended  for  his  eyes,  I  would  send  it 
to  him,  ut  prosit.  When  all  is  said,  I  can  but  think 
the  notice  will  promote  the  sale  of  your  book,  which  I 
read  with  much  pleasure  and  instruction,  and  much 
wonder  at  your  power  to  grasp  historic  periods  and 
movements,  for  which  I  have  a  very  poor  head. 

I  should  like  much  to  see  Dean  Briggs  work  out  his 

1  In  an  article  on  "Mazzini's  Centenary,"  printed  by  the  Nation, 
June  22,  1905. 

57 


LETTERS 

suggestion  of  an  exponent  of  the  Harvard  spirit  re 
sulting  from  rolling  Emerson  and  Roosevelt  together 
(vide  last  H.  G.  If.)-1  Ralph  came  nearest  Theo 
dore  when  he  desired  and  tried  to  kill  a  deer  in  the 
Adirondacks,  as  related  by  Stillman  in  his  Memoirs. 

September  26,  1905. 

Knowledge  and  judgment  —  not  the  camp  of 
opinion  —  determine  my  choice,  of  reviewers.  This 
may  at  times  wear  the  aspect  of  selecting  hostile 
critics,  as  when  I  gave  Chad  wick's  "Channing"  to 
Prof.  Williston  Walker;  both,  however,  were  pleased, 
—  the  author  with  the  result,  and  the  orthodox  critic 
with  the  compliment  to  his  fairness.  I  try  to  avoid 
mutual-admiration  reviews,  to  which  our  Unitarian 
brethren  are  rather  prone. 

In  philosophy  I  go  much  further  than  my  natural 
inclination,  which  would  be  to  shut  the  door  in  the 
face  of  metaphysics.  I  affect  to  regard  it  as  of  im 
portance,  and  do  the  best  I  can  in  choice  of  reviewers ; 
but  I  sometimes  control  these  (not  in  advance,  but  in 
editing  the  MS.).  James's  vivacious  intellect  I  highly 
esteem,  ranking  it  much  above  his  brother's;  but  his 
"  Will  to  Believe  "  I  have  the  least  possible  sympathy 
with.  With  X.  I  could  never  come  in  rapport.  Since 

1  At  the  Radcliffe  College  Commencement  Dean  Briggs  said: 
"  The  ideally  excellent  Harvard  man  of  to-day  is  a  sort  of  blending 
of  Emerson  and  Mr.  Roosevelt." 

58 


TO   WILLIAM   ROSCOE   THAYER 

Z.  lias  ceased  to  write  for  me,  I  hardly  know  what 
he  is  doing ;  but  his  life-work  ex  officio  seems  to  me 
barren  of  profit  to  mankind. 

Nous  sommes  des  animaux; 
Voila  mon  systeme. 

Some  early  lectures  of  Goldwin  Smith's  wrhich  I 
was  looking  over  the  other  day  —  perhaps  those  on 
Modern  History  (1861)  —  made  me  wonder  whether 
he  could  even  re-read  them  to-day  in  the  light  of 
Darwinism.  (I  was  with  him  at  the  time,  and  might 
have  asked  him.)  Similar  reflections  arose  in  reading 
Clough's  "  Life  and  Letters,"  as  in  the  case  of  the 
whole  Oxford  Movement.  What  a  waste  of  intellect! 

Your  letter  has  drawn  me  out,  but  whether  I  had 
better  have  remained  in  my  shell  —  for  your  good 

opinion  —  I  don't  know. 

October  3,  1905. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  print  your  letter,  but  the  set  of 
correspondence  just  now  is  so  strong  that  I  may  be 
delayed. 

I'm  glad  you  like  the  essence  of  my  father.1  The 
sketch  which  follows  was  wrung  from  me  by  my  friend 
the  late  William  H.  Whitmore,  then  of  the  Board 
of  Aldermen,  I  think.  I  was  but  midway  in  my  task, 
and  might  have  said  more  at  the  close  of  the  fourth 

1  The  Words  of  Garrison :  A  Centennial  Selection  of  Character 
istic  Sentiments.  Boston,  1905.  W.  P.  G.  compiled  this  and  wrote 
a  brief  memoir  of  his  father. 

59 


LETTERS 

volume  instead  of  at  that  of  the  second.  However, 
on  re-reading,  my  brother  and  I  concluded  to  write 
stet  upon  it,  except  for  a  few  verbal  changes.  I  was 
sorry  that  he  could  not  see  eye  to  eye  with  me  about 
making  my  father's  life-mask  the  frontispiece.  I 
think  I  must  send  you  a  print  of  it. 

November  16,  1905. 

As  Peter  Schlemihl  without  his  shadow,  so  you 
without  your  secret  in  your  relations  wTith  me,  must 
feel  the  loss  poignantly.  To  put  my  Vase  on  a 
plinth1  was  piling  Pelion  upon  Ossa  for  glittering 
testimonial,  and  one  surprise  out-topped  the  other. 
I  thank  you  again  for  all  the  bother  you  have  had, 
and  for  the  good-will  which  made  you  cheerfully 
undertake  it.  I  have  a  daily  reminder  of  you  in  the 
lamp,  w7hich  is  in  constant  use  and  is  a  beauty.  You 
must  surely  see  it  lighted  some  time  at  my  own  fire 
side. 

December  1,  1905. 

I  have  not  seen  the  football  article  for  the 
H.  G.  M.2  to  which  you  refer  in  your  last  letter, 
and  there  is  a  rumor  that  it  has  brought  you  into 
trouble.  I  hope  not,  but  if  you  go  under  with  the 
Temple,  the  example  will  have  been  worth  furnish- 

1  The  completion  of  the  gift  of  the  subscribers  to  the  testimonial 
for  the  fortieth  anniversary. 

2  December,  1905. 

60 


TO   WILLIAM  ROSCOE   THAYER 

ing,  by  the  Strong  Man  in  the  right  place.  I  do  hope 
the  bad  game  is  tumbling  to  its  ruin. 

February  9,  1906. 

It  was  very  thoughtful  in  you  to  send  these  touches 
of  a  vanished  hand,1  each  characteristic,  and  one  (in 
which  Lloyd  makes  a  Patria  of  his  Alma  Mater) 
rising  into  poetic  planes  of  feeling  and  expression. 
I  am  to  see  his  wife  this  afternoon,  and  am  sure  she 

will  be  grateful  to  you. 

March  17,  1906. 

Your  complimentary  letter  finds  me  at  home  nurs 
ing  a  sciatic  leg  —  a  novel  experience  for  a  seasoned 
pedestrian  like  myself.  I  am  mending,  and  go  about 
my  business  as  usual,  but  I  must  avoid  long  journeys 
like  that  my  Chicago  daughter  is  expecting  from  me 
in  April ;  and  even  Boston  is  too  far.  So  we  may  not 
meet  as  on  our  last  occasion,  even  if  Mr.  Adams 
remembers  me  with  an  invitation.  You  are  very 
good  to  offer  me  also  your  Cambridge  hospitality. 

Few  but  yourself  could  read  my  tribute  to  Signora 
Mario  with  a  personal  sympathy  —  I  mean  on  this 
side  of  the  water.  The  anecdotes  of  the  young  Ameri 
can  couple  with  which  I  close,  veil  my  daughter  and 
her  husband  and  my  sister  and  Mr.  Villard,  respec 
tively.  I  thought  it  too  characteristic  to  suppress. 

From  my  hurried  gleanings  in  Carducci's  selections 
1  Some  letters  of  Lloyd's  to  Mr.  Thayer. 
61 


LETTERS 

from  A.  Mario's  writings,  I  judged  that  the  Marios 
never  reached  Boston.  In  Philadelphia,  however, 
they  were  welcomed  by  Motts  and  McKims,  and 
a  striking  resemblance  was  found  in  J.  W.  M.  to 
my  future  wife  (en  secondes  noces).  I  don't  remem 
ber  through  what  channel  she  was  enlisted  for  the 
Nation,  but  she  began  to  correspond  in  1866.  For 
tenacity  of  purpose  in  the  martyr  spirit  she  might 
be  classed  with  Susan  B.  Anthony;  but  she  had  a 
broader  mental  outlook.  I  'm  glad  you  knew  her,  and 
that  I  had  some  share  in  bringing  this  about. 

March  26,  1906. 

It  is  due  to  you  to  give  you  private  notice,  ere  it 
leaks  out  as  it  may  soon  do,  that  I  last  week  handed 
in  my  resignation  as  Editor  of  the  Nation,  to  take 
effect  at  the  close  of  the  current  volume.  I  did  not 
take  this  for  me  momentous  step  without  weighing 
my  chance  of  rubbing  along  till  the  end  of  the  year, 
or  even  till  July  1,  1907.  The  state  of  my  health, 
however,  forbade  this,  for  I  have  been  "running 
down"  for  the  past  nine  or  ten  months,  from  some 
impairment  of  the  digestion  (no  other  unsoundness 
being  visible),  and  I  have  no  excuse  for  evading  the 
first  opportunity  to  take  a  long  and  genuine  vacation, 
free  from  all  care. 

There  being  no  deus  ex  machina  to  invoke,  the 
Trustees  of  the  Evening  Post  disturbed  their  own 

62 


TO   WILLIAM  ROSCOE  THAYER 

editorial  fabric  to  replace  me  with  Hammond  Lament 
as  chief,  and  Paul  E.  More  as  assistant;  and  they 
could  not  have  done  better  under  the  circumstances. 
I  believe  you  know  them  both  and  their  Harvard 
affiliations.  The  revolution  is  not  yet  announced,  and 
we  are  rather  refraining  from  spreading  it. 

I  need  not  dwell  on  what  the  cessation  of  my  labors 
in  one  field  for  forty-one  years  means  to  me,  and  at 
what  a  cost  I  purchase  my  freedom.  My  future  occu 
pation  is  quite  indeterminate,  but  it  would  cause  me 
no  wrench  to  give  up  journalism  altogether.  Cer 
tainly  the  bondage  of  it  I  eschew  from  this  time  forth. 

I  am  sure  of  your  sympathy  for  me  in  this  com 
pulsion  ;  and  to  be  less  in  touch  with  you  than  now 
is  a  disagreeable  thought.  But  I  dare  say  occasions 
will  not  be  wanting  to  resume  our  friendly  intercourse, 
though  intermittently.  I  am  not  saying  good-bye,  or 
I  should  have  to  thank  you  for  loyal  and  competent 
support,  and  again  for  your  part  in  the  testimonial  of 

last  summer. 

April  11,  1906. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  honor  Mr.  [Charles 
Francis]  Adams's  invitation.1  My  sciatica  still  lingers 
and  forbids  my  long  journey.  I  have  confided  to 
him,  by  the  way,  my  approaching  resignation.  Till 
July  1st  I  shall  be  as  busy  as  at  any  time  in  my  life. 

1  To  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society. 


63 


II 

TO  LOUIS  DYER,  OXFORD,  ENGLAND 

November  9,  1893. 

YOUR  three  most  kind  letters  of  Sept.  2,  Oct.  13 
and  21  must  be  acknowledged  in  the  lump.  I  have 
long  had  fixed  in  memory  the  "  Vuolsi  cosi  cola,"1  and 
it  does  express  most  perfectly  the  enforced  content 
ment  with  the  decree  of  an  overruling  force.  If  we 
begin  by  quarreling  with  death  and  separation,  we 
must  end  by  quarreling  with  life  itself,  and  it  is  better 
to  make  ourselves  at  home  W7ith  both,  let  the  balance 
be  struck  as  it  may. 

Through  all  my  late  trial  I  was  so  situated  that  I 
never  let  go  my  hand  from  my  Nation  duties,  and 
my  mind  has  therefore  had  no  leisure  for  melancholy 
and  no  stiffness  from  disuse.  My  grief  had  been 
diffused  over  three  years,  and  was  merged  at  last  in 
rejoicing  for  the  release  of  my  wife.  Convey  my 
thanks  to  Mrs.  Dyer  for  her  share  of  your  invitation 
to  visit  Oxford.  I  can  truly  say  that  I  never  expect 
to  see  that  beautiful  spot,  or  any  part  of  Europe, 

1  Vuolsi  cosi  cola  dove  si  puote 
Cio  che  si  vuole,  e  piu  non  dimandare. 

Dante :  Inferno,  III,  95,  96. 
64 


TO  LOUIS  DYER 

again,  but  it  will  be  pleasant  to  cherish  the  illusion 
that  I  may  do  so  while  you  are  still  there  to  take  a 
stranger  in. 

Our  elections  have  spoken  for  themselves.  After 
having  forced  the  Senate  to  do  what  Cleveland  de 
manded,  the  people  have  given  the  President  himself 
an  admonition  that  his  shortcomings  will  not  be  over 
looked.  When  one  considers  what  sort  of  a  press  we 
have,  the  amount  of  latent  virtue  and  of  independence 
in  our  electorate  is  surprising. 

November  17,  1893. 

Speaking  of  letters,  have  you  procured  and  read 
Asa  Gray's,  capitally  edited  by  his  widow?  They 
portray  very  vividly  that  most  excellent  man,  my  old 
teacher  and  ever  warm  friend.  Lowell's  "  Letters  "  I 
have  yet  to  undertake.  Edward  Fitzgerald's  have 
lately  claimed  my  tardy  attention  and  have  well 
repaid  perusal.  Still,  in  this  pressing  season  of  pub 
lication,  I  have  so  much  to  read  professionally  that 
I  can  browse  very  little. 

September  12,  1896. 

When  you  told  me  that  you  had  the  key  to  the 
Dyer  connexion  in  this  country,  or  words  to  that 
effect,  I  little  thought  that  I  should  ever  be  interested 
to  draw  upon  you  for  information.  Meantime  my 
only  daughter  has  engaged  herself  to  Mr.  Charles 
Dyer  Norton  of  Chicago,  and  there  is  now  a  natural 
65 


LETTERS 

curiosity  to  learn  what  the  young  man  has  heretofore 
given  little  or  no  thought  to. 

I  by  no  means  wish  to  cause  you  any  trouble,  but 
you  can  perhaps  direct  me  to  the  body  of  Dyer  in 
formation  in  this  country.  It  would  be  a  pleasure  to 
find  my  prospective  son-in-law  (who,  I  will  say  in 
passing,  does  honor  to  either  name)  of  kin  to  you. 

Perhaps,  now  that  you  are  again  at  a  great  distance 
from  the  Nation,  you  will  feel  drawn  to  it  as  a  note 
payer  and  occasional  correspondent. 

We  are  just  lamenting  the  death  yesterday  of  Prof. 
Child  at  the  Mass.  General  Hospital,  from  I  know  not 
what  malady.  Some  two  or  three  years  ago  he  was 
thrown  from  his  carriage  at  night  and  injured  about 
the  head.  Eliot,  Lane,  Goodwin,  and  James  Mills 
Peirce  are,  I  think,  the  only  ones  of  my  old  instructors 
now  surviving,  at  least  in  connection  with  the  College. 
E.  H.  Abbott  and  John  Noble  are  two  others. 

November  7,  1896. 

Thanks  for  the  two  Oxford  notes,  one  of  which  I 
hope  to  print  next  week.  Now  that  the  election  is 
well  over,  I  expect  a  revival  in  my  collaboration, 
which  has  been  remarkably  slow  in  limbering  up  after 
the  summer  vacation.  Everything  seemed  to  feel  the 
paralysis  of  the  uncertain  issue.  We  are  in  for  a  long 
struggle,  with  a  wretched  assortment  of  leaders  on  the 
Republican  side. 

66 


TO  LOUIS  DYER 

December  24,  1896. 

The  Academy's  perversion  is  shocking,  but  it 
raises  the  question  how  many  first-rate  weekly  critical 
review's  any  country  can  support.  The  Athenaeum 
will  now  be  more  than  ever  overburdened,  and  many 
more  books  must  go  wholly  unnoticed. 

May  19,  1899. 

It  was  a  real  surprise  to  find  you  a  Machiavellian 
student,  and  I  much  wish  I  could  have  listened  to 
your  lectures  (the  report  of  No.  3  is  just  to  hand). 
Ever  since  I  picked  up  a  Venetian  edition  of  the 
"Prince,"  which  proves  to  have  been  the  last  pub 
lished  in  Italy  before  the  papal  interdict,  I  have  had  a 
certain  interest  in  M.,  which  was  renewed  the  other 
day  by  the  appearance  of  Lirio's  first  testo  critico 
(published  in  Florence  by  Sansoni  at  the  close  of  last 
year).  I  hope  you  own  the  book. 

Fate  has  for  the  fourth  summer,  not  quite  unin 
terruptedly,  driven  me  out  of  my  house,  this  time  for 
the  sake  of  some  restorations.  As  usual  I  accept  my 
sister's  hospitality  in  a  house  next  to  hers  in  her 
beautiful  park  at  Dobbs  Ferry  on  the  Hudson.  Next 
month,  my  son  Philip,  who  lives  with  me,  is  to  be 
married,  and  then,  as  he  will  bring  his  bride  home,  I 
trust  I  shall  have  done  forever  with  housekeeping  so 
far  as  the  table  is  concerned. 


67 


LETTERS 

June  3,  1899. 

Your  report  of  Dicey  jumps  with  a  long  review  of 
Thayer's  "Evidence,"  which  I  shall  print  in  the 
week  following.  I  dare  say  Yale  men  and  others 
may  look  upon  your  letter  as  a  "  reading  notice  "  (or 
disguised  puff)  of  the  school,  but  we  cannot  always 
prevent  our  good  from  being  evil  spoken  of. 

This  month  witnesses  (to-morrow)  my  adieu  to  the 
fifties  and  entrance  upon  my  sixtieth  year;  and  on 
the  24th  the  marriage  of  my  son  Philip,  when  all 
the  family  will  be  done  for  matrimonially,  and  Cupid 
Alexander  will  sigh  in  vain  for  any  more  children  of 
mine  to  conquer.  I  am  again  with  my  sister  at  Dobbs 
Ferry  for  the  summer,  pending  some  improvements 
in  my  Orange  home.  The  bride  will  keep  house  for 
me  on  my  return  in  the  fall. 

November  24,  1899. 

I  well  remember  Buxton,  though  where  on  its  ris 
ing  ground  St.  James  Terrace  may  be,  I  don't  know. 
I  did  not  view  the  remains  of  the  Roman  Baths, 
but  I  saw  a  regular  Punch  and  Judy  show,  which 
I  thought  a  brutalizing  propaganda.  My  lodgings, 
with  Mr.  Villard,  were  in  that  Crescent  whose  name 
escapes  me.  So  much  for  the  thoughts  suggested  by 
your  letter  dated  Nov.  5.  Matthew  II  has  reached 
me  in  a  second  copy  from  M.  himself,  and  that  shall 
go  to  Charles  Dyer  Norton  ut  prosit,  and  the  other  to 

68 


TO  LOUIS  DYER 

that  doubting  reviewer  whom  you  think  too  severe, 
but  rather  for  his  "  ut  prosit "  than  to  return  to  the 
attack. 

In  the  matter  of  the  Boer  War  I  take  no  partisan 
interest,  knowing  that  both  sides  are  paying  for  their 
sins,  and  that  taking  the  offensive  will  (if  there  be 
no  general  upheaval)  place  the  Boers  at  the  tender 
mercy  of  Anglo-Saxondom,  which  in  this  case  will  not 
be  synonymous  with  cruelty.  But,  as  in  our  war  with 
Spain,  the  steps  leading  up  to  the  present  hostilities 
cannot  (I  believe)  bear  the  light. 

December  26,  1901. 

It  is  good  of  you  to  break  our  long  mutual  silence. 
One  of  my  good  friends  and  Nation  contributors  in 
Cambridge,  the  other  day,  revealed,  on  hearing  from 
me  after  a  considerable  interval,  a  feeling  of  having 
been  neglected,  and  argued  some  disaffection  — 
as  if  an  overworked  editor  with  a  ponderous  daily 
correspondence  could  have  his  reticence  imputed  to 
such  a  cause.  However,  so  it  has  not  been  with  you, 
and  on  my  part  my  reproach  shall  be  that  an  ardent 
Alfredite  like  yourself  made  no  report  of  Winchester ! 
I  had  an  offer  of  one  —  it  came  by  cable  —  from  an 
American,  and  agreed  to  look  at  it,  but  it  proved  to 
be  so  poor  that  the  writer  himself  approved  of  my 
squelching  it.  Another  offer  I  declined  in  the  hope, 
if  not  on  the  ground,  that  you  were  likely  to  serve  me. 
69 


LETTERS 

It  was  really  a  rare  incident  that  so  conspicuous  a 
festival  failed  of  some  satisfactory  volunteer  reporter 
for  the  ubiquitous  Nation  (cast  your  eye  in  to-day's 
index  to  volume  73  on  the  list  of  special  correspond 
ence,  all  voluntary  except  the  too  lengthy  Paris  lit 
erary  letter  of  X.). 

Well,  you  had  your  reasons,  and  your  preoccupa 
tions,  and  I  forgive  you,  as  also  for  the  preferring  of 
your  magnum  opus  to  my  scrap-heap  of  notes.  Suc 
cess  to  your  "honest  and  animated  efforts,"  as  was 
said  of  a  great-uncle  of  mine  who  I  fear  had  displayed 
some  activity  in  the  African  slave  trade  and  actually 
died  in  Goree  off  Cape  Verde. 

We  had  here  an  extremely  pleasant  family  reunion 
yesterday,  with  fourteen  at  table,  gathering  together 
the  two  houses  of  my  two  daughters-in-law.  (My 
own  family  had  assembled  at  my  sister's  on  Christmas 
Eve.)  I  still  have  with  me  Lloyd's  widow  and  the  two 
fine  children,  but  in  another  three  weeks  they  will 
be  off  to  Florida  with  the  Kirkhams  for  the  remain 
der  of  the  winter.  They  are  the  joy  of  my  heart. 

Oddly  enough,  Mrs.  Wood's  novel,  wiiich  you 
kindly  promised  me,  and  which  shall  now  enchant  my 
young  people  when  it  arrives,  is  reviewed  in  to-day's 
Nation  —  not  unfavorably,  as  I  trust  you  will  agree, 
and  not  without  discrimination.  As  I  sift  the  novels 
myself,  before  sending  any  out,  pray  put  it  down 
to  my  credit  that  I  thought  the  story  worth  review- 
70 


TO   LOUIS  DYER 

ing  where  my  practice  is  to  suppress  nineteen  in 
twenty. 

The  etching  I  may  find  at  my  office  to-morrow. 
Many  thanks  for  thought  of  me  in  that  line,  to  which 
I  have  been  susceptible  from  my  youth  upward. 

I  dare  say  you  have  seen  nothing  of  Godkin  since 
he  crossed  to  England.  He  is  now  at  Torquay,  and 
I  hear  from  him  at  long  intervals.  From  want  of  free 
locomotion  his  existence  is  hardly  more  than  vegetat 
ing,  though  he  reads  freely,  and  has  occasional  visits 
from  friends.  He  has  apparently  written  his  last  com 
position. 

My  brother  has  just  Christmased  me  with  Scud- 
der's  "  Life  of  Lowell,"  on  completing  which  the 
poor  man  himself  all  but  paid  the  debt  of  nature  and 
is  still  very  delicately  poised.  I  thought  of  Lowell  as 
I  wrote  the  word  "  etching "  above,  and  made  the 
hasty  reflection  that  his  name  and  fame  are  not  asso 
ciated  with  a  love  of  art  or  indeed  of  music.  I  asked  a 
friend  the  other  day  if  the  son's  "  Life  of  Tennyson  " 
revealed  any  affection  in  him  for  music,  and,  on  re 
turning  to  the  book,  he  replied,  "not  a  trace."  This 
is  all  very  odd  and  unintelligible  to  me,  who  cannot 
disassociate  poetry  from  either  art;  yet  my  great 
namesake,  most  musical  of  orators,  could  hardly  tell 
one  tune  from  another  even  by  the  time  —  a  hymn 
from  Yankee  Doodle  —  and  was  but  an  indifferent 
judge  of  poetry. 

71 


LETTERS 

November  28,  1902. 

I  enclose  draft  for  your  letter  on  Egypt,  for  which  I 
rather  grudged  the  space  at  this  time  (and  sometimes 
I  think  in  these  useful  precis,  you  are  apt  to  forget 
by  how  much  the  half  is  greater  than  the  whole) — a 
love  pat  out  of  Hesiod  ( ?)  which  I  trust  you  will  for 
give  like  a  good  Grecist.  But  I  always  am  ready  to 
say  a  good  word  for  the  most  fascinating  line  of  ar 
chaeological  research  now  being  carried  on  anywhere 

on  the  globe. 

April  13,  1903. 

Do  not  be  surprised  if  the  Chicago  Nortons  drop  in 
on  you  —  i.  e.  on  you  Oxfordians  —  about  the  end 
of  May.  They  sailed  for  Gibraltar  on  February  26th, 
have  made  the  Spanish  tour  (Andalusia),  and  have 
attacked  Italy  by  way  of  Naples.  It  is  mostly  an 
old  story  to  my  son-in-law,  but  a  new  world  to  my 
daughter,  whose  brief  but  racy  letters  show  her  keen 
enjoyment  of  every  step  of  the  way. 

I  am  hoping  they  will  get  a  glimpse  of  you  and 
Dicey  in  the  finest  spot  on  earth,  and  will  confirm  to 
me  the  good  news  concerning  your  wife's  improve 
ment  which  was  current  in  Chicago  when  they  left. 

June  8,  1903. 

I  have  a  right  to  be  envious  of  you  about  this  time, 
for,  in  spite  of  my  daughter's  lingering  in  France 
beyond  all  my  expectation,  I  do  not  believe  she  could 

72 


TO  LOUIS  DYER 

omit  Oxford  from  her  first  impressions  of  England. 
Hence  I  infer  that  you  have  already  seen  her  and 
her  husband,  kinsman  at  once  of  her  (via  Greene 
of  Warwick,  R.  I.)  and  of  you  (via  Mary  Dyer).  I 
learned  by  cable  a  day  or  two  ago  that  they  would 
sail  on  the  16th  inst.  I  hope  their  visit  has  cemented 

our  friendship. 

June  28,  1903. 

It  would  have  been  in  place  to  anticipate  your  letter 
of  the  20th  with  one  of  my  own,  in  acknowledgment 
of  your  more  than  kind  treatment  of  my  children  at 
Oxford.  They  arrived,  after  a  voyage  which  wras  not 
too  disagreeable,  on  Saturday  last,  both  much  im 
proved  in  health  and  looks.  Charles  Norton  set  off 
the  very  next  day  for  Chicago,  and  we  have  Katherine 
in  our  net  (I  fear  I  must  add,  in  frankness,  our  mos 
quito  net)  for  some  weeks. 

The  engagements  of  the  Diceys  gave  you  the  labor 
ing  oar  in  guiding  and  entertaining,  and  I  hope  you 
were  not  inconvenienced.  Certainly  you  conferred 
great  happiness  on  the  pair,  and  proved  how  re 
mote  a  kinship  will  stir  a  kindly  man  to  good  offices. 
They  were  not  ungrateful,  and  the  time  may  come 
when  they  can  repay  them  to  your  children  at  least. 
It  gratified  me  that  they  should  make  the  acquaint 
ance  also  of  your  wife  and  children.  To  Mrs.  Dyer 
my  thanks  go  out  as  well  as  to  yourself. 

Doubtless  you  saw  the  Degree  conferred  yesterday 
73 


LETTERS 

on  Prof.  Norton.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him 
when  he  visited  New  York  for  a  possible  final  adieu 
to  Mr.  Godkin.  Such,  however,  has  proved  to  be  the 
vigor  of  my  old  chief's  constitution  that  he  is  enjoying 
a  complete  restoration  of  his  limbs,  and  has  a  clear 
and  active  mind.  He  is  summering  in  New  Hamp 
shire  and  talks  even  of  crossing  the  Atlantic  again 
this  season,  so  my  daughter  heard  while  with  you ; 
but  I  doubt  if  he  will  be  allowed  to  do  so.  He  has 
not  yet  resumed  his  writing  for  the  press,  and  the 
70th  volume  of  the  Nation  just  closed  has  only  a 
single  article  from  his  pen  —  the  last  before  the 
stroke  which  temporarily  disabled  him. 

October  16,  1903. 

Your  young  Grecian  excites  my  admiration.  A 
rascal  of  a  grandson  of  mine,  whom  I  am  trying  to 
stimulate  to  learn  to  read  English,  has  just  achieved 
"birdsy"  as  spelling  "pansy."  How  long  before  he 
will  be  found  sitting  at  Plato's  feet,  I  can't  compute. 

June  2,  1904. 

At  last  I  have  been  able  to  print  your  Harrison, 
with  forty  other  Grecians  held  at  bay  (the  familiar 
summer  madness  to  get  into  my  first  measure).  There 
is  nothing  new  here,  unless  the  miracle  of  my  break 
ing  away  from  my  desk  for  nearly  a  week,  to  visit 

74 


TO  LOUIS  DYER 

my  daughter  in  Chicago.   This  is  an  "  intermittent " 
geyser.   It  cannot  play  annually  even. 

July  12,  1904. 

My  daughter,  having  dropped  her  babies  with  me 
like  foundlings,  has  been  scouring  the  N.  E.  coast  for 
an  August  lodgment,  to  be  joined  there  by^her  hus 
band.  She  should  return  to-day  or  to-morrow.  In 
this  shifting  world,  there  is,  I  find,  nothing  stable 
but  grandfathers  and  fathers-in-law. 

July  7,  1905. 

It  was  very  good  of  you  to  enroll  yourself  among 
the  Nation's  staff  in  my  honor  as  a  steady-goer  for 
forty  years;  but  the  complete  surprise  of  the  whole 
testimonial,  and  the  necessity  of  making  it  a  news 
topic  in  the  Post,  left  a  little  bitter  in  my  mouth. 
I  have  to  reflect,  too,  that  the  distinction  thus  im 
posed  on  me  is  borrowed  from  the  admirable  com 
pany  who  have  supported  the  Nation  for  more  or 
less  of  the  long  period.  My  thanks  to  you  for  your 
share  in  it,  and  for  a  friendship  which  I  cherish. 

September  16,  1905. 

You  have  done  me  a  great  kindness  by  sending  me 

the  Scotsman's  article;  and,  sending  my  modesty  to 

Coventry,  I  shall  print  your  letter.  This  implies  that 

the  article  on  the  Indemnity  l  was  mine,  as  it  was.  The 

1  "A  Premium  on  Aggression."    See  page  189. 

75 


LETTERS 

truth  is,  one  of  the  delicacies  of  my  position  —  and 
a  chief  cause  of  its  being  impossible  for  me  to  take 
more  than  a  half-week's  vacation  the  year  round  — 
is  my  liability  to  have  to  supply  the  Post's  editorial 
deficiencies.  In  this  case  I  offered  them  my  idea,  but 
they  had  not  thought  it  out  for  themselves  and  could 
not  gras]5  it.  So  I  had  to  write  the  article  myself. 

The  real  gratification  I  owe  to  you  is  the  evidence 
that  what  I  write,  somebody  reads.  Want  of  this  is 
one  of  the  discouragements  of  anonymous  journal 
ism.  We  go  on  shooting  our  arrows  in  the  dark.  If 
nobody  says  ditto,  or  nobody  controverts,  we  are 
left  to  surmises.  It  gives  me  an  odd  sensation  to 
think  that  the  Nation  may  carry  more  weight  in 
newspaper  offices  abroad  than  here,  where  nobody, 
so  far  as  I  know,  has  made  any  sign  of  having  read 
my  late  article.  So  it  was  in  the  case  of  my  recent 
fete.  Harper's  Weekly  was  the  only  paper  (save  one 
in  Colorado  in  a  news-clipping  way)  to  notice  the 
event,  whereas  the  Athenaeum  took  handsome  notice 
of  it,  and  the  Publisher's  Circular  reprinted  my  ac 
knowledgment  entire.  So  Fisher  Unwin  was  the  sole 
publisher  in  all  my  acquaintance  to  offer  me  private 
congratulations. 

Renewed  thanks  from  the  "prophet  not  without 
honor,"  etc. 


76 


Ill 

TO  GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY 

June  15,  1887. 

I  HAVE  your  telegram  about  change  of  base  back  to 
Beverly,  and  send  you  two  more  books.  Holt  got 
out  the  "Epicurean"  merely  because  Haggard  was 
said  to  have  borrowed  from  it  in  his  "  She." 

It  was  pleasant  to  see  Lloyd  in  good  company  in 
the  Advocate  volume,  but  he  was  far  from  being 
represented  by  his  best  pieces.  His  first  translation, 
from  Beranger,  and  some  verses  d  la  Herrick,  leave 
everything  else  behind,  in  my  judgment. 

January  7,  1888. 

I  can  truthfully  say  that  the  approbation  you  be 
stow  on  my  Century  sonnets  is  not  only  more  than 
I  could  expect  from  any  quarter,  but  could  hardly 
please  me  more  coming  from  any  other  source.  From 
boyhood  my  feelings  have  had  to  find  expression 
sometimes  in  verse,  but  I  believe  since  college  days  I 
have  never  appended  my  name  to  any  in  print  before 
my  Lincoln  sonnet  in  Harper's  in  1885. 

It  will  interest  you  to  know  that  the  "Evening" 
sonnet  was  composed  for  a  little  celebration  of  Mrs. 
77 


LETTERS 

McKim's  70th  birthday  in  1883.  The  other  followed 
next  year,  and  had  reference  to  quite  another  person 
—  was  more  spontaneous,  too,  and  imaginative,  but 
not,  of  course,  more  (or  less)  sincere. 

January  3,  1889. 

Your  cheerful  letter  of  Dec.  9  from  Rome  (you 
don't  mention  Stillman,  or  Fiske,  at  Florence)  al 
most  dispenses  me  from  wishing  you  a  Happy  New 
Year,  as  you  are  evidently  in  the  midst  of  it.  I  share 
your  delight  in  your  English  experience  —  creamy,  all 
of  it.  You  needed  only  Bryce,  and  he  was  in  the  last 
agonies  over  his  great  "American  Commonwealth," 
which  is  now  making  much  stir  here,  and  is  a  lasting 
leaven  of  reform  as  well  as  a  wellspring  of  the  kind 
of  self-knowledge  which  must  in  any  nation  precede 
reform.  Bryce  is  now  in  India,  indefatigable  globe 
trotter  that  he  is,  and  will  not  return  before  February. 

.  .  .  Yesterday  I  took  to  the  printer  the  first  sheets 
of  the  final  volume  of  my  father's  Life,  which  I  fin 
ished  on  New  Year's — the  relief  being  the  best  gift 
I  ever  had.  The  drudgery  of  passing  through  the 
press  now  comes,  and  will  last  till  June  at  least. 

April  10,  1889. 

I  did  n't  mean  to  impose  so  much  thought  and  in 
quiry  on  you  as  to  Gray,  but  I  am  glad  of  a  consensus, 
which  I  must  respect  even  if  it  leaves  me  unenlight- 

78 


TO  GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY 

ened  or  at  least  unconvinced.  What  bothers  me  in  the 
verse l  in  question  is  the  conjunction,  since  in  your 
view  Melancholy's  marking  of  Gray  would  have  to  be 
a  sort  of  kindness.  Higginson,  and  I  think  most  read 
ers,  take  the  opposite  view.  The  youth  labored  under 
three  disabilities —  (1)  humble  origin;  (2)  whatever 
Science  did  to  him  by  not  frowning;  (3)  having  a 
melancholy  turn  of  mind.  All  belong  in  one  category, 
else  I  feel  the  need  of  a  disjunctive  but.  But  basta! 

October  22,  1889. 

1  did   not  recognize  your  hand   in  the  [Boston] 
Post's   review  of  W.  L.  G.,2  but  I  carefully  copied 
off  the  concluding  sentence  as  being  all  the  praise  I 
could  desire.    I  shall  await  with  interest  your  fuller 
expression  in  the  Atlantic.    As  the  conception  of  the 
final  chapter,  together  with  most  of  the  matter,  was 
my  own,  I  was  particularly  pleased  with  your  satis 
faction  in  it,  for  it  was  the  subject  of  much  debate  in 
the  family,  and  I  stood  quite  alone  in  believing  re 
straint  and  objectiveness  to  be  as  necessary  here  as 
in  any  other  part  of  the  work.    I  cheerfully  yielded 
the  floor  to  my  sister  and    older  brother,  but  they 
could  not  produce  anything  less  amenable  to  criti- 

1  Fair  Science  frowned  not  on  his  humble  birth, 
And  Melancholy  marked  him  for  her  own. 

2  William  Lloyd  Garrison.    Referring  to  the  third  and  fourth 
volumes  of  his  Life  by  W.  P.  G.  and  F.  J.  G. 

79 


LETTERS 

cism,  and  in  the  end  my  first  draft  was  substantially 
adopted  —  with  the  improvement  consequent  upon 
so  much  searching  criticism,  as  well  as  upon  a  stim 
ulating  of  the  memories  of  the  family.  As  the  critics 
so  far  generally  give  evidence  of  having  read  this 
chapter  and  been  impressed  by  it,  I  feel  that  my 
literary  instinct  has  been  fully  justified  —  and  my 
filial  instinct  and  affection  not  less.  Although  no 
thing  is  therein  revealed  which  surpasses  my  father's 
care  of  his  unfortunate  brother,  his  treatment  of  the 
demoralized  Knapp,  his  forbearance  towards  Rogers, 
his  magnanimity  towards  Torrey,  his  forgiveness  of 
my  namesake,  still,  undoubtedly,  in  some  ways  there 
is  a  nearer  approach  to  his  personality  and  to  the 
sources  of  the  inspiration  which  you  have  felt  after 
reading  the  "Inner  Traits."  I  am  glad  that  I  have 
helped  you  to  know  my  father,  whose  influence  for 
good  wrill  not  cease  as  long  as  men  can  read  the  self- 
revelation  we  have  prepared  of  him. 

I  thank  you  sincerely  for  a  judgment  which  I  prize 
second  to  no  one's  of  your  generation. 

November  25,  1889. 

I  have  just  read  your  notice  of  my  father's  Life 
in  the  Atlantic.  Some  of  its  general  statements 
seem  to  me  to  be  unsurpassable  in  justness  and 
felicity  and  grasp ;  others  I  should  have  to  quarrel 
with ;  but  my  general  feeling  is  one  of  great  thank- 

80 


TO  GEORGE  E.   WOODBERRY 

fulness  that  you  can  say  so  much  that  is  good  of  the 
man  and  of  the  work,  and  in  a  magazine  whose 
audience  must  be  influenced  by  your  judgments.  I 
must  make  special  acknowledgment  of  your  singling 
out  one  of  the  jewels  of  the  book  —  my  father's 
review  of  Channing,  which  I  think  deserves  to  be 
come  classic.  That  my  conception  of  the  proper 
treatment  of  the  domestic  side  of  my  father  pleased 
you,  is  also  highly  gratifying.  I  can  only  hope  that 
in  all  ways  you  feel  yourself  to  have  been  repaid  for 
the  drudgery  of  reading  those  four  huge  volumes. 

September  5,  1893. 

Your  heroic  clearance  was  as  timely  as  possible, 
for  it  found  me  almost  incapacitated  from  making 
"announcements,"  owing  to  the  sudden  prostration 
of  my  wife,  who  all  but  lost  her  life  in  my  arms  in  a 
recent  journey  homeward  from  her  summer  refuge. 
She  is  in  New  York,  at  a  hotel,  and  so  far  recovered 
that  I  can  get  away  to  put  the  Nation  to  press. 
How  long  she  will  be  spared  to  me  is  still  very 
uncertain. 

You  do  not  say  whether  I  may  begin  to  send  you 
books  again  (there  is  nothing  very  large  in  hand) 
now  or  on  your  return,  or  what  your  pleasure  is  to  be 
about  the  magazines.  The  more  I  try  X.,  the  more 
dissatisfied  I  am  with  him;  he  is  crude  and  queer, 
and  I  do  not  see  the  elements  of  growth  in  him.  But 
81 


LETTERS 

neither  do  I  see  any  one  else  to  whom  I  should  ven 
ture  to  trust  what  now  goes  to  you,  and  I  really  feel 
very  helpless.  X.  of  Harvard  is  a  good  man  (and  a 
poet  of  one  sonnet  at  least),  but  he  is  a  little  long- 
winded,  and  some  of  his  literary  judgments  I  cannot 
adopt.  .  .  . 

If  you  have  any  ideas  on  this  subject,  pray  let  me 
share  them. 

September  26,  1893. 

X.  wrote  the  Note  about  H.  James,  and  it  was 
longer  and  more  calculated  to  wound;  so,  for  old 
friendship's  sake,  I  cut  it  down,  and,  equally  for  true 
friendship's  sake,  I  let  pass  the  salutary  criticism. 

Goldwin  Smith  wrote  on  Coleridge.  I  rather  de 
sired  a  critique  of  the  poet,  but  did  not  expect  it  from 
him,  nor  did  I  know  which  way  to  turn.  Besides 
myself,  I  hardly  know  anybody  who  reads  in  Cole 
ridge's  verse ;  and  at  his  best  I  place  him  very  near 
the  front  rank. 

You  will  have  seen  the  notice  of  my  great  loss. 
My  wife  died  away  from  home  on  Friday  last,  and 
I  have  just  returned  from  burying  her  at  Auburn, 
N.  Y. 

November  6,  1895. 

I  readily  avail  myself  of  an  excuse  for  writing  to 
you.    By  this  mail  I  send  a  contribution  to  your 
Shelley  archives,  being  a  French  translation  of  the 
82 


TO   GEORGE   E.  WOODBERRY 

"Alastor."   It  is  a  free  gift,  but  you  may  be  moved 
to  write  a  brief  Note  about  it. 

You  are,  I  trust,  in  good  estate.  For  me  the  sum 
mer  had  unusual  variety,  though  my  actual  vacation 
was  brief  as  usual.  I  made  a  ten  days'  trip  to  Nova 
Scotia,  and  from  where  the  Jesuits  first  set  foot  on 
this  continent  I  looked  down  to  the  shore  settlement 
along  the  Annapolis  Basin  where  my  father's  exist 
ence  was  begun,  and  from  which  my  grandfather 
and  grandmother  removed  to  Newburyport  in  1805. 

August  7,  1898. 

I  could  have  waited  indefinitely  for  your  acceptance 
of  my  slender  sheaf  of  verse.1  Indeed,  where  it  was 
practicable,  I  bestowed  the  volume  in  person  in  order 
to  prevent  any  written  acknowledgment.  Your  words 
of  commendation  are  more  than  gratifying,  and 
weighty  beyond  any  that  have  come  to  me.  I  think 
the  ballast  of  quotations  may  have  helped  out  the 
effect  of  the  poetry,  as  it  unquestionably  did  that  of 
the  pretty  page ;  but  they  were  all,  without  exception, 
afterthoughts  (where  not  avowedly  translations),  and 
not  themes.  "  Reality "  was  an  exercise  in  building 
up  an  English  sonnet  on  the  first  line  of  an  ancient 
Italian,  the  rest  being  unknown. 

The  serial  arrangement,  too,  is  purely  artificial ; 

1  Sonnets  and  Lyrics  of  the  Ever-Womanly.  Privately  Printed, 
1898. 

83 


LETTERS 

the  Petrarch  sonnets,  which  come  last,  having  been 
my  first  experiments  with  this  form,  and  the  open 
ing  sonnet  the  very  latest  (last  year).  A  quarter  of  a 
century's  unforced  musing  is  here  embraced  in  two 
covers.  The  selection  according  to  the  title  was  made 
solely  as  an  excuse  for  publishing  the  two  portraits, 
for  the  sake  of  my  children  and  the  surviving  friends 
of  both  my  wives. 

Excuse  my  saying  so  much  about  my  own  per 
formance,  in  which  I  apprehend  you  may  read  too 
much,  though  it  contains  nothing  that  is  not  gen 
uine  and  germane  to  my  feelings  or  experience.  As 
opposed  to  its  prevailing  tone  of  sadness,  I  have 
endeavored  to  read  between  the  lines  of  your  later 
lyrics  in  the  magazines  some  prospect  of  congratu 
lating  you  on  more  cheerful  prospects.  "We  poets 
begin  in  gladness." 

I  am  delighted  to  learn  that  you  have  Hawthorne 
in  hand,  being  sure  of  your  eminent  fitness  for  the 
task,  with  your  Essex  County  pedigree  at  the  front. 
Nothing  could  better  express  my  idea  of  Hawthorne 
than  your  saying  that  his  art  interests  you  more  than 
his  substance.  I  am  afraid  I  could  not  judge  even 
his  art  fairly,  so  little  does  the  man  attract  me.  His 
pro-slavery  bias  counts  for  something  in  this,  no 
doubt,  and  his  ostentatious  search  for  gloom  and 
crime  and  mystery  elsewhere  than  in  our  slave-rid 
den  New  World.  In  general  he  belongs  for  me  with 

84 


TO   GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY 

George  Eliot,  Dickens,  and  Thackeray,  as  an  author 
to  whose  personality  I  cannot  attach  myself. 

My  family  condition  is  as  follows :  my  Katherine 
(Mrs.  Norton)  married  and  living  very  happily  in 
Chicago;  Lloyd,  his  wife  and  son  Lloyd  summering 
with  the  Kirkham  grandparents  at  Hastings,  N.  Y. ; 
Philip,  living  with  me,  and  to  wed  Miss  Marian 
Knight,  probably  in  November,  when  they  will  make 
their  home  here.  So  as  one  prop  is  removed,  another 
takes  its  place,  and  I  am  not  left  solitary.  As  usual, 
having  no  vacation,  I  get  a  weekly  all-day  tramp  in 
this  lovely  country,  as  much  salt  bathing  as  I  can  at 
the  Battery,  and  quantum  suff.  of  intellectual  stag 
nation  during  the  hot  weather. 

When  my  household  is  reconstituted,  I  wish  you 
would  gladden  it  occasionally  of  a  Sunday. 

You  may  be  interested  to  know  that  Kruell  has 
just  completed  a  portrait  of  Hawthorne  in  his  grand 
manner,  of  which  he  thinks  very  well.  I  have  not 

seen  it. 

April  21,  1900. 

I  think  it  was  one  of  Bewick's  vignettes,  of  a  sui 
cide  by  the  rope,  that  bore  the  grim  legend,  Sero  sed 
serio.  So  my  hearty  if  tardy  thanks  are  due  you  for 
the  "  Makers  of  Literature  "  that  came  to  me  with  the 
Author's  compliments. 

Apropos  of  Bewick,  a  generous  friend  to  whom  I 
owe  a  large  part  of  my  more  precious  Bewickiana 

85 


LETTERS 

has  just  given  me  the  "  Emblems  of  Mortality,"  cut 
by  John  Bewick  after  Holbein's  Dance  of  Death  — 
i.  e.  white  line  interpreting  black  line;  for  the  fac 
simile  is  discarded  and  many  liberties  are  taken  in 
favoring  tone,  tint,  etc.,  and  with  the  accessories. 
The  Ploughman  vignette  sums  up  the  difference 
between  old  and  new  style,  and  naturally  not  in 
favor  of  the  new.  The  date  is  1789.  I  do  not  know 

of  any  other  such  example. 

July  28,  1903. 

I  have  delayed  answering  your  latest  friendly 
message  in  the  shape  of  your  Ode  *  till  I  could  re 
read  it  and  sum  up  my  impression  of  it.  Frankly,  it 
is  this,  that  your  fourth  section,  Emerson,  seems  a 
mere  intercalation  in  a  general  invocation  to  your 
country.  I  will  not  guess  that  this  squares  with  the 
actual  fact  of  composition,  but  I  cannot  account 
otherwise  for  so  much  bread  to  so  little  sack ;  and  if 
I  am  right  in  my  surmise,  I  will  add  that  I  do  not 
wonder,  for  Emerson  does  not  seem  to  me  a  proper 
subject  for  an  ode. 

That  there  may  be  as  many  subjects  for  that  form 
of  verse  as  for  a  sonnet,  I  readily  concede,  and  still 
the  very  structure  of  the  ode,  loose  and  varying, 
seems  to  call  for  a  corresponding  variety  in  the  theme ; 
whereas  the  note  of  uniformity,  philosophic  com- 

1  Ode  read  at  the  Emerson  Centenary  Services,  Boston,  May  24, 
1903. 

86 


TO  GEORGE  E.   WOODBERRY 

posure,  "obey  the  voice  at  eve  obeyed  at  prime," 
is  peculiarly  Emersonian. 

Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  do  I  think  the  genius  of 
your  verse  or  of  your  poetic  admirations  has  a  close 
affinity  with  the  poet  Emerson.  I  will  trust  you  to 
narrate  his  life  as  few  others  can,  but  I  feel  that  to  put 
yourself  in  poetic  accord  with  him  poetically  (not 
critically)  required  an  effort  which  shows  in  your 
verse,  and  makes  it  suffer  in  common  with  most 
occasional  poetry. 

So  I  return  to  your  "  Gibraltar  "  as  em'  feste  Burg  ! 

July  30,  1903. 

I  do  not  grudge  the  third  reading  I  have  just  given 
your  Ode  \vith  the  aid  of  your  illumination.  I  now 
see  more  of  Emerson  in  it  than  I  did,  but  too  allu 
sively,  it  seems  to  me,  remembering  the  theme  in  the 
forefront  in  Tennyson's  "  Bury  the  Great  Duke," 
and  in  Wordsworth's  "  Stern  Daughter  of  the  Voice 
of  God,  O  Duty ! "  You  have  sought  unity  elsewhere 
than  in  the  man,  or  else  have  veiled  it  with  your  pre 
luding.  Put  this  to  the  proof  by  asking  whether  a 
stranger  to  the  occasion  would  divine  (without  the 
caption)  who  was  meant  by  "he"  in  your  altered 
line  — 

A  manhood  race!  such  men  as  he  foresaw. 

Those  four  lines  I  do  prefer  to  the  original,  but  I  do 

not  feel  that  they  contain  the  thread;  they  rather 

87 


LETTERS 

offer  a  new  problem :  Who  is  he  ?  and  even  Who 


impose  ? 


Such  men  as  he  foresaw, 
Who  — 


in  spite  of  the  comma  after  foresaw,  would  delude 
the  ear  into  linking  Who  with  he,  until  the  plural 
impose  revealed  the  antecedent  men.  In  other  words, 
I  think  the  elucidation  should  begin  much  further 
back.1 

As  for  your  general  scheme,  I  will  remark  that  a 
poem,  to  be  lasting,  should  be  neither  too  allusive  nor 
too  subtle ;  and  I  would  add  not  too  consciously  con 
structive.  At  least  my  own  habit  of  working  is  averse 
to  laying  out  in  advance.  I  begin,  heaven  knows  how ; 
and  1  continue  and  end,  heaven  knows  how.  So  was 
it  with  Goethe  in  his  "  Gefunden  "  :  — 

Ich  ging  ira  Walde  .  .  . 
Und  nichts  zu  suchen, 
Das  war  mein  Sinn. 

He  had  no  intuition,  he  was  after  nothing  in  particu 
lar;  and  then  he  came  on  his  Bliimchen  and  trans 
lated  rather  than  picked  it. 

Lest  I  might  seem  too  censorious,  I  omitted  in  my 
last  letter  to  query  the  rhymes  ideal  {appeal  in  IV, 
V.  Can  you  find  any  precedent  for  making  ideal  a 
dissyllable  ?  Dr.  Murray  gives  no  countenance  to  it. 

1  The  printed  poem  differs  in  some  particulars  from  the  MS.  to 
which  the  letter  refers. 

88 


TO   GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY 

And  can  the  metrical  freedom  of  the  ode  give  any 
but  a  prosaic  scansion  to  the  fourth  line  on  the  last 
page- 

From  the  crown  of  my  head,  etc.  ? 

Basta !  and  to  think  that  you  are  the  only  person 
I  venture  to  criticise  in  this  way :  proof  of  real  esteem 
and  jealousy  for  your  poetic  achievement. 

September  4,  1903. 

Your  tribute  to  your  colleague  Price  was  duly 
received.  All  men  spoke  well  of  him,  but  I  never 
met  him,  and  think  he  never  wrote  for  the  Nation, 
though  a  few  Southern  men  have  always  been  on  my 
list.  With  the  best  of  them  the  black  shadow  may 
at  any  time  arise  to  prove  that  this  land  is  inhabited 
by  two  peoples;  and  so  it  may  be  for  another  hun 
dred  years. 

December  17,  1903. 

.  Once  more  I  have  to  thank  you  for  a  token  of  your 
attachment  to  me,  and  of  our  common  addiction  to 
the  Muse.  I  have  sought  the  new  pieces  amid  the  old 
and  the  old  amid  the  new,  and  with  my  ingrained 
critical  habit  have  set  a  mark  in  the  Contents  against 
those  which  I  like  best  —  a  trinity  of  the  "  Gi 
braltar,"  "O  inexpressible  as  sweet,"  and  "The 
Homestead."  You  do  not  despise  these,  but  I  know 
you  would  give  them  a  different  rating.  I  find  in  them 
nothing  obscure,  mystical,  esoteric,  or  strained.  They 
89 


LETTERS 

proceed  firmly,  directly,  simply,  and  felicitously  to 
their  goal.  With  the  others,  in  large  measure  and  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree,  I  still  wrestle ;  but  I  have 
discoursed  of  them  before. 

The  contents  which  trouble  me  are  the  patriotic 
poems,  so  opposed  to  the  final  line  of  the  "  Gibral 
tar,"  and  to  the  spirit  of  American  democracy  as  I 
must  believe. 

Peace  to  the  world  from  ports  without  a  gun 

admirably  condenses  what  Coleridge  wrote  of  the 
Revolution  of  1789  - 

And,  conquering  by  her  happiness  alone, 
Shall  France  compel  the  nations  to  be  free. 

Read  in  that  same  glorious  Ode  to  France  how 
To  whelm  the  disenchanted  nation, 

The  monarchs  marched  in  evil  day, 
And  Britain  joined  the  dire  array; 
Though  dear  her  shores  and  circling  ocean, 

Yet  still  my  voice,  unaltered,  sang  defeat 
To  all  that  braved  the  tyrant-quelling  lance. 

The  highest  patriotism  that,  and  such  as  your  Essex 
County  Regiment  can  never  have  attained  to.  And 
if  "the  colors  make  the  country,"  where  in  heaven's 
name  was  our  fathers'  excuse  for  revolting  from  their 
English  flag?  When  I  read  that  ominous  line,  I 
seemed  to  see  the  smug  McKinley  setting  school- 
90 


TO   GEORGE   E.  WOODBERRY 

children  to  waving  little  flags,  and  it  gave  me  a  start 
to  think  that  such  verse  and  that  longer  rhapsody 
about  " Our  Country"  (which  never  was,  on  land  or 
sea)  might  lay  your  foundations  to  a  claim  to  become 
the  McKinley  poet  laureate  —  say  at  the  dedication 
of  that  preposterous  Canton  monument.  Absit  omen  ! 

Truly  I  mourn  that  our  dear  Essex  County  with 
its  two  voices  of  sea  and  mountains  (or  at  least 
rough  upland),  should  be  so  interpreted  by  one  not 
the  least  of  her  poetic  progeny. 

It  may  please  you  —  to  turn  from  this  subject  — 
to  learn  that  on  Tuesday  announcement  was  made  at 
Harvard  of  a  prize  foundation  in  honor  of  my  Lloyd, 
a  silver  medal  and  $100  annually  for  the  best  poem. 
This  from  his  own  class. 

I  have  lately  returned,  almost  involuntarily,  to 
Carducci,  and  have  been  trying  my  teeth  on  the  first 
stanza  of  his  wonderful  Ca  ira.  I  could  n't  fetch  it 
in  our  common  sonnet  forms,  but  hendecasyllables 
helped  me  out. 


91 


IV 

TO    FREDERIC   BANCROFT 

February  14,  1900. 

HAD  I  needed  any  reminder  of  my  agreement  to 
let  you  review  C.  F.  Adams's  Life  of  his  father,  the 
enclosed  letter  would  have  supplied  it.  I  now  send 
the  book.  Were  I  reviewing  it  myself,  I  could  have 
much  to  say  about  the  author's  view  of  the  abolition 
movement  after  1844,  when  it  reached  not  the  climax 
but  the  beginning  of  its  efficiency,  whether  as  a 
Touchstone  of  the  Union  sentiment  North  and 
South,  or  of  the  political  anti-slavery  policies  of  the 
day.  But  I  will  not  dictate  your  treatment  of  the 

book  in  any  way. 

February  16,  1900. 

I  am  ready  for  a  page  on  the  Adams,  and  more  than 
ready  to  have  the  pleasure  of  an  interview  with  you . 
I  am  best  caught  in  the  latter  part  of  the  forenoon, 
or  in  the  afternoon. 

If  you  had  the  curiosity  to  turn  to  the  Texas  (1845) 
chapter  in  Vol.  Ill  of  my  father's  Life,  I  think  you 
would  find  some  grounds  for  differing  with  C.  F.  A., 
Jr.,  as  to  there  being  no  need  for  the  moral  stiffening 
furnished  by  the  abolitionists  after  that  date.  It  is 

92 


TO  FREDERIC  BANCROFT 

the  only  time,  I  think,  when  nay  father  was  brought 
in  contact  with  the  elder  Adams,  who  did  not  attend 
the  London  breakfast  of  1867  (Vol.  IV) — perhaps 
as  a  politic  measure. 

My  chosen  reviewer  for  your  "  Seward  "  seems  a 
better  man  that  any  you  have  mentioned  by  name. 

June  26,  1900. 

Your  notice  of  Storey's  "Sumner"  reached  me 
duly  with  your  farewell.  The  length  of  it  surprised 
me,  as  Sumner  could  hardly  come  up  for  rejudgment 
after  Pierce's  volumes.  When  I  came  to  read  your 
MS.  for  the  press,  I  could  not  feel  justified  in  such  a 
review  of  the  man  rather  than  of  the  book ;  and,  shall 
I  not  frankly  add  ?  I  find  myself  not  in  entire  sym 
pathy  with  your  estimate  of  Sumner.  Here  my  own 
personal  recollection  of  the  Senator  gave  me  some 
confidence  in  differing  from  you.  In  brief,  I  laid 
down  my  pencil  for  a  more  convenient  season  in 
which  to  consider  how  much  of  your  notice  I  could 
save.  This  shall  be  my  early  care. 

By  an  odd  paradox,  my  sympathy  was  more  with 
you  in  your  presentation  of  Seward  than  with  your 
reviewer  in  the  Nation,  who  rates  him  higher  mor 
ally  than  I  do,  and  seems  to  excuse  some  things  to 
strategy  which  (like  the  proposed  war  with  Eng 
land)  are  unspeakably  damnable.  However,  my  re 
viewer  knew  much  more  of  Seward  personally  than 
93 


LETTERS 

I  ever  did  (I  never  saw  him),  and  as  I  read  his  stric 
tures  on  you  without  having  your  book  before  me,  I 
concluded  that  you  might  have  failed  to  use  your 
superior  knowledge  of  inedita  in  such  a  way  as  to 
preclude  criticism.  This  was  my  aim  in  writing  my 
father's  Life.  Opinions  may  and  will  differ  regard 
ing  him  to  the  end  of  time,  but  no  one  has  ever 
attacked  the  record  in  the  four  volumes. 

Another  consideration  that  made  me  tranquil  is  a 
standing  one :  it  is  always  a  favor  to  any  author  to  be 
criticised  in  a  reputable  medium  by  a  competent 
hand  (not  necessarily  infallible),  not  guided  by  male 
volence.  Then,  the  length  of  the  review  was  a  high 
testimonial  to  the  importance  of  your  work.  And 
finally,  the  praise  mixed  with  the  censure  should  have 
gratified  you,  and  promoted  the  sale  and  circulation 
of  your  work.  In  a  word,  I  think  we  did  you  no 
harm,  but  the  contrary. 

September  8,  1900. 

I  thank  you  for  taking  in  so  good  part  the  drastic 
treatment  of  your  review  of  Storey,  which  still,  as  the 
event  proved,  served  a  good  turn.  Morse's  apology 
was  manifestly  anything  but  a  cceur  leger.  His  quar 
ter  hour  would  have  been  still  more  uncomfortable 
if  I  had  read  the  book  and  been  aware  of  the  ac 
knowledgments  to  Nicolay  and  Hay  which  you  cite. 
By  a  happy  chance  I  have  preserved  nine  tenths 

94 


TO  FREDERIC  BANCROFT 

of  your  MS.,  and  will  send  it  to  your  brother  with 
an  explanation  of  its  blue-penciling. 

October  16,  1901. 

I  have  in  fact  sent  out  Burgess  for  review,  and  re 
gret  that  I  cannot  therefore  gratify  you  with  the  job. 
The  glance  I  gave  the  book  convinced  me  that  it  is 
coarse,  reactionary,  ill-stressed,  and  little  to  be  praised 
in  any  particular.  Its  calling  John  Brown  a  "dead 
beat"  is  a  sample  of  what  I  mean.  There  is  neither 
the  dignity  nor  the  truth  of  history  in  this. 

December  12,  1903. 

Our  Mr.  Ogden,  the  Post's  chief  editor,  it  is  who 
meets  with  your  approval  for  his  Panama  article. 
Did  the  world  ever  see  such  "strenuous"  sophistry 
in  bolstering  up  an  indefensible  cause  ?  Never  here, 
I  think,  since  the  days  of  slavery. 

January  9,  1904. 

Both  Mr.  Rollo  Ogden  and  myself  are  the  poorer 
for  not  owning  your  "Seward,"  but  it  seems  a  need 
less  tax  on  your  liberality  to  provide  us  both  with  a 
copy.  I  will  only  say  that,  while  not  declining  a 
valuable  gift,  I  should  not  feel  slighted  if  the  real 
director  of  the  Post's  policy  with  reference  to  Panama 
were  remembered  by  you,  and  he  alone.  My  hearty 
thanks  for  your  good  feeling.  What  observer  of  our 

95 


LETTERS 

affairs,  whether  native  or  foreigner,  would  not  con 
sider  your  letter,1  if  it  could  be  published,  as  omi 
nous?  It  is  ominous  that  it  should  be  written.  We 
have  a  school-boy  set  over  us,  and  our  children's 
teeth  will  be  set  on  edge. 

Hay  had  a  chance  to  throw  his  dead  body  in  the 
way  of  Roosevelt's  madness,  but  he  had  not  the 
manhood. 

September  6,  1904. 

You  propose  to  yourself  a  heroic  labor  to  re-read 
my  father's  Life,  and  if  your  sole  object  were  to 
re-judge  his  Disunion  policy,  the  chapter  for  1844 
would,  I  think,  suffice.  I  believe  I  have  compre 
hensively  summed  it  up  on  pp.  118-119  of  Vol.  Ill, 
where  every  sentence  must  be  weighed.  The  policy 
was  the  only  complete  checkmate  to  the  Southern 
threat  of  disunion;  it  was  the  touchstone  to  the 
political  anti-slavery  parties  and  platforms;  and, 
above  all,  it  freed  and  purified  the  Abolitionists 
proper  from  the  guilt  of  slavery.  Under  my  father's 
guidance  theirs  was  a  purely  moral  agitation,  and  the 
doctrine  was  reached  by  a  moral  evolution,  as  ap 
pears  in  the  chapters  for  1842-43.  Liberal  Party 
men,  Free-Soilers,  and  Republicans  were  all  put  on 
the  defensive  by  it  (as  well  as  the  South),  and  all 
shuffled  and  sophisticated  over  the  Constitutional 

1  Describing  an  official  defence  of  Roosevelt's  Panama  policy. 
96 


TO  FREDERIC  BANCROFT 

obligations  respecting  slavery.  Heaven  knows  what 
they  would  have  done  if  they  had  not  been  braced 
by  the  abolition  disunion  agitation. 

I  think  I  perceived  in  your  "  Seward  "  that  you  hold 
it  to  be  a  patriotic  lese-majesty  to  entertain  the  idea 
of  a  divided  territory  and  people  under  any  condition 
of  internal  corruption.  If  this  be  true,  I  ask  nothing 
more  than  that  you  look  as  tolerantly  on  my  father 
as  on  Josiah  Quincy  and  John  Quincy  Adams,  who 
thought  Missouri  a  fit  occasion  for  separation,  Charles 
Francis  Adams  and  Channing,  who  thought  Texas. 

I  regret  that  I  am  so  much  slave  of  the  desk  as  to 
have  no  vacation,  and  to  be  able  to  make  few  jour 
neys.  My  chances  of  seeing  you  in  Washington  are 
therefore  very  slim.  Here  in  my  suburban  woods  it 
would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  have  our  talk  at  any 
time  you  may  find  yourself  in  New  York,  with  a  night 
or  Sunday  at  your  disposal. 

August  26,  1904. 

I  hasten  to  exchange  —  I  will  not  say  my  per 
functory  thanks  for  your  gift  of  your  "  Life  of  Sew 
ard,"  but  my  unintelligent,  for  a  much  livelier  ex 
pression.  It  is  my  tantalizing  fate  to  be  obliged  to 
pass  on  without  reading,  to  my  reviewers,  books 
which  I  could  heartily  enjoy,  and  which  would  lend 
a  solid  basis  to  my  editorial  equipment.  Such  was 
the  case  with  your  work  on  its  appearance,  and  I 
97 


LETTERS 

might  never  have  read  it,  but  for  your  kind  bestowal 
of  it. 

I  have  just  finished  reading  every  word  of  it,  with 
an  interest  and  avidity  which  few  novels  evoke  in 
me,  and  with  a  great  enlargement  of  my  knowledge 
both  of  Seward  and  of  his  time ;  also  with  a  very  high 
admiration  of  the  manner  in  which  you  have  dis 
charged  your  delicate  and  laborious  task.  A  more 
illuminating  biography  I  think  I  never  read,  nor  one 
in  which  the  marks  of  candor  were  more  evident  on 
every  page. 

Naturally,  I  have  turned  back  to  Gen.  J.  D.  Cox's 
review  of  it  in  the  Nation,  and  wras  pleased  to  observe 
that,  however  critical  his  comment,  the  amount  of 
space  devoted  to  the  Life  was  not  incommensurate 
with  the  rank  which  your  biography  must  have  in 
our  American  literature.  One  remark  of  his  you  may 
not  have  forgotten,  that  in  no  similar  composition 
had  he  ever  known  the  reader's  opinion  to  be  so 
guided  at  every  step.  I  shall  not  discuss  the  justice 
of  his  strictures,  conceding  which,  in  some  if  not  in 
all  instances,  I  find  them  to  relate  to  the  defect  of  your 
quality  —  that  sane  and  constant  detachment  which 
the  candid  historian  strives  to  maintain,  all  the  more 
if  he  is  tinged  with  admiration  for  his  subject.  No 
wonder  if  he  is  sometimes  tempted  to  stand  so  erect 
as  to  lean  over  backwards. 

I  cannot  reproach  you  for  not  having,  like  the 
98 


TO  FREDERIC  BANCROFT 

generality  of  writers  on  the  slavery  struggle,  fathomed 
my  father's  policy  of  disunion;  nor  for  using  the 
term  "  radicals  "  sometimes  in  too  vague  and  perhaps 
opprobrious  signification.  Your  final  judgments  of 
Seward's  temporizing  policy  are  not  always  mine. 
But  wherever  I  differ  from  you,  I  own  that  you  have 
done  nothing  to  obscure  the  issue  or  to  make  the  worse 
appear  the  better  reason.  All  is  open  and  above- 
board,  and  there  is  a  comforting  sense  that  you  have 
penetrated  and  comprehended  your  man. 

November  25,  1905. 

I  'm  delighted  to  be  able  to  turn  over  to  you  "  The 
Brothers'  War,"  a  significant  book,  I  think.  It  has 
just  been  returned  to  me  by  Professor  Y.,  whose  ado 
ration  of  the  President  is  so  deep  that  he  cannot 
feel  easy  to  maintain  his  literary  connection  with  the 
Nation.  He  calls  this  a  Garrisonian  walking  aloof. 


TO  UNNAMED  CORRESPONDENTS 

February  20,  1900. 

MY  DEAR  X.,  —  I  lose  no  time  in  expressing  my 
regret  that  I  failed  to  find  in  your  report  of  Y.  a  de 
gree  of  interest,  for  our  public,  to  warrant  me  in 
printing  it.  In  fact,  in  general,  these  prompt  reports 
of  lectures  belong  rather  to  the  daily  paper  than 
to  the  Nation,  not  strictly  a  newspaper.  Your  safest 
way  is  to  summarize  in  a  note.  It  may  often  happen 
that  your  full  letter  collides  with  equally  urgent 
matter  more  consonant  with  our  practice.  Indeed, 
this  was  the  case  in  the  present  instance.  Three 
weighty  and  sadly  long  letters  had  instant  claims  for 
admission  this  week.  A  fourth  would  have  over 
whelmed  my  small  cadre.  More  than  half  the  care 
of  my  editorial  function  is  in  battling  with  the  too 
much  and  the  too  little.  This  will  excuse  my  fault 
finding. 

Believe  that  I  am  impatient  of  your  love's  labor 

lost. 

October  21,  1902. 

MY  DEAR  A.,  —  My  function  in  this  office  as  the 
Butcher  is  well  established.   I  now  submit  my  latest 
100 


TO   UNNAMED  CORRESPONDENTS 

work,  with  which  I  am  rather  well  pleased  except 
as  dismembering  a  friend.  I  return  the  exsecta  for 
your  possible  use.  You  will  see  to  what  a  length  the 
whole  would  have  gone.  Now  all  is  compact  and  will 
be  read  with  pleasure. 


101 


VI 


TO  F.  W.  TAUSSIG 

September  3,  1904. 

YOUR  renunciation  of  our  customary  honorarium 
heightened  the  favor  conferred.  The  Nations  ser 
vice  is  mostly  that  of  love,  even  when  paid  for,  and  it 
is  a  pleasure  to  acknowledge  the  manifestation  of  that 
spirit  on  your  part.  Be  assured  that  we  shall  always 
welcome  anything  from  your  pen. 

February  13,  1905. 

You  will  have  read  Professor  Fran  eke 's  appeal  for 
a  Germanic  Museum  building,  in  the  last  Nation. 
As  a  fellow  Vice-President  of  that  institution  with 
yourself,  I  feel  moved  to  express  the  wish  that  the 
wealthiest  Germans  in  this  country  might  here  dis 
cover  their  great  opportunity  to  proclaim  the  alli 
ance  of  the  German  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  spirit.  On 
the  side  of  the  spirit  I  have  long  felt  that  German 
Americans  have  not  distinguished  themselves  in 
proportion  to  their  numbers.  Whether  the  million 
aires  among  them  in  the  West  exceed  this  class  in 
the  East,  I  don't  know;  nor  have  I  any  reason  for 
thinking  that  you  have  greater  access  to  them  than 
102 


TO  F.  W.  TAUSSIG 

I.   So  my  present  writings  must  be  viewed  only  as  a 

pious  desiderium. 

July  20,  1905. 

The  absence  of  your  name  from  the  list  l  which  it 
would  have  adorned,  I  too  regret,  but  this  comes  of 
doing  things  (even  well  meant)  behind  one's  back. 
Your  approbation  will  help  keep  me  content  to  pur 
sue  a  routine  which,  as  being  unshared,  has  neces 
sarily  a  rather  wearisome  monotony. 

1  Of  signers  to  the  fortieth  anniversary  testimonial. 


103 


VII 

TO  JAMES  FORD  RHODES 

January  5,  1894. 

DEAR  MR.  RHODES,  —  I  could  but  feel  a  delicacy 
in  accepting  your  gift  toward  the  promotion  of  the 
Nation's  circulation,  especially  since  the  appeal  to 
which  it  comes  in  response  was  not  a  cry  of  distress 
but  a  part  of  the  regular  mechanism  of  the  publisher's 
department.  I  have  accordingly  taken  counsel  with 
the  publisher,  to  learn  that  the  hard  times  have 
really  driven  a  certain  number  of  subscribers  of  late 
to  abandon  their  reading  of  the  paper.  With  your 
permission,  therefore,  we  shall  hold  your  gift  in  trust 
for  such  cases,  selecting  the  most  deserving. 

By  a  pleasing  coincidence  I  received  this  morn 
ing  from  your  brother-historian,  Mr.  James  Schouler, 
an  incidental  expression  of  his  confirmed  regard  for 
the  Nation  as  an  old-time  reader.  And,  to  cite  a  third 
historian,  I  remember  that  the  late  Francis  Park- 
man,  on  occasion  of  a  similar  circular,  made  a  free 
will  offering  like  your  own.  This  was  many  years 
ago,  in  our  day  of  small  things. 

I  am  glad  that  you  feel  intellectually  in  debt  to  the 
Nation,  as  this  is  one  of  the  rewards  of  an  editor's 
104 


TO   JAMES  FORD  RHODES 

faithful  endeavor :  but,  of  course,  the  Nation  stands 
also  for  the  moral  and  scholarly  elite  (not  of  this 
country  alone)  who  have  contributed  to  the  body  of 
its  criticism  in  politics  and  in  letters. 

With  hearty  thanks  for  your  support  in  all  senses, 
I  am 

Yours  with  great  respect, 

W.  P.  GARRISON. 

January  15,  1895. 

It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  remember  me  on  Christ 
mas  Day  with  a  line.  But  a  few  days  before  your 
letter  from  Luxor  came,  I  had  the  gratifying  assur 
ance  from  our  mutual  friend,  Prof.  E.  G.  Bourne,  that 
you  were  nearly  or  quite  yourself  again,  and  this  you 
now  confirm.  My  hearty  congratulations  on  your 
recovery  of  that  which  above  all  makes  life  worth 
living. 

.  .  .  Mr.  Godkin  was  much  gratified  by  your 
praise  of  the  Nation  as  a  comforter  in  partibus  in- 
fidelium.  He  and  I  are  now  finishing  the  thirtieth 
year  of  a  close  and  most  harmonious  partnership, 
and  I  have  a  natural  sentiment  that  this  should  not 
terminate  until  the  Nation  has,  like  the  Liberator,  at 
tained  its  thirty-fifth  year.  Mr.  Godkin  was  lately 
the  recipient  of  a  remarkable  private  testimonial 
from  the  ladies  of  New  York  for  his  anti-Tammany 
crusade,  which  was  most  associated  with  the  Evening 
105 


LETTERS 

Post  only,  but  really  began  when  the  foundations  of 
the  Nation  were  laid. 

March  4,  1905. 

It  pleases  me  that  our  reviewer  so  far  succeeded 
in  pleasing  you.  But  for  a  contretemps,  the  notice 
would  have  appeared  much  earlier.  However,  I  con 
sole  myself  for  all  tardinesses  of  this  sort  by  reflect 
ing  on  the  Nation's  utility  as  a  work  of  reference,  — 
a  utility  which  it  would  not  have  earned  except  by 
preferring  solid  to  swift  judgment. 

To  me,  both  personally  and  professionally,  Gen 
eral  Cox's  loss  was  irreparable.  More  and  more 
difficult  it  becomes  to  find  reviewers  for  the  military 
and  political  events  of  the  last  half -century.  But 
perhaps  they  will  last  as  long  as  I  have  need  of  them. 
I  often  ask  myself  how  long  this  thing  is  going  to 
keep  up! 

May  16,  1906. 

I  sincerely  congratulate  you  on  the  termination  of 
your  egregious  labor,  even  if  the  announcement  ends 
with  the  note  of  "  Refrain."  Your  breaking-off  place 
seems  to  me  highly  fitting,  although  as  an  Ohio  man 
you  must  have  enjoyed  recording  what  Hayes  did 
for  national  decency  and  for  good  government. 
Since  you  mention  Mr.  Schurz,  I  will  repeat  his  im 
pressive  affirmation  to  me  of  the  enormous  gain  to 
the  White  House  manners  and  those  of  official  Wash- 
106 


TO   JAMES  FORD  RHODES 

ington  from  Hayes  succeeding  Grant  and  his  shady 
associates. 

To  your  "Refrain"  I  can  join  my  own.  I  have 
delayed  too  long  to  notify  you  in  advance  of  any 
public  announcement  that  I  have  resigned  my  editor 
ship  of  the  Nation,  to  take  effect  July  1,  at  the  close 
of  the  present  volume.  My  system  has  been  too 
much  impoverished,  especially  during  the  past  year, 
by  my  incessant  labors,  and  there  was  no  excuse 
from  a  severance  of  relations  for  which  I  can  never 
find  an  equivalent  in  the  intellectual  field.  My  per 
sonal  loss  is  too  apparent  to  be  dwelt  upon.  I  take 
leave  of  yourself  with  renewed  acknowledgments  of 
the  kind  part  you  played  in  the  testimonial  of  a  year 
ago.  It  flatters  me  to  class  myself,  however  humbly, 
among  the  historians,  both  in  respect  of  my  father's 
Life  and  of  the  Nation  s  annals.  Hereafter,  hav 
ing  for  the  first  time  a  free  foot,  I  hope  to  be  seen 
oftener  in  Boston,  and  to  perfect  acquaintances  now 
chiefly  on  paper. 

Best  wishes  for  a  pleasant  time  and  a  safe  return. 


107 


VIII 

TO  JAMES  M.  HUBBARD 

July  7,  1905. 

THE  well-kept  secret  of  that  testimonial  was  re 
vealed  yesterday  to  my  utter  amazement,  and  some 
distress  of  mind,  in  view  of  the  publicity  thought 
necessary.  Your  signature  to  the  address  brought 
no  new  information,  for  you  have  never  concealed 
your  cordial  feeling  towards  me.  Nor  need  I  reassure 
you  of  my  own.  I  believe  the  Nation  has  been  distin 
guished  by  a  real  harmony  and  reciprocity  of  esteem 
between  its  conductor  and  its  staff,  and  happy  the 
editor  who  has  the  confidence  of  such  a  staff.  You 
have  been  one  of  its  most  disinterested  and  indefati 
gable  members,  and  have  deserved  a  testimonial  as 
truly  as  myself. 

April  29,  1906. 

.  .  .  Were  I  to  show  you  Mr.  M.'s  two  personal 
letters,  it  would  reveal  a  confidence  I  will  no  longer 
withhold  from  so  warm  a  friend  as  yourself  —  viz., 
that  the  Nation  will  know  me  no  more  as  Editor  after 
the  close  of  the  present  volume.  My  strength  has 
been  oozing  out  for  nigh  a  year  past,  and  while  my 
organs  are  still  sound  it  behooves  me  to  get  out  of 
108 


TO  JAMES  M.  HUBBARD 

harness,  never  to  return  to  it.  I  have  accordingly 
planned  for  a  full  year  of  recuperation,  in  which  New 
England,  to  be  sure,  plays  a  considerable  part;  but  I 
need  the  shore,  the  water,  and  the  carrying  out  of 
some  cherished  genealogical  projects  in  the  Province. 
I  shall  make  first  for  New  Brunswick. 

The  Nation  will  go  on  without  me,  and  staff  mat 
ters  will  probably  undergo  few  immediate  changes. 
I  forbear  to  dwell  on  the  spiritual  momentousness  of 
the  change  to  me,  which  I  can  liken  to  the  settling 
down  of  a  great  fog  over  that  host  of  acquaintances 
and  co-laborers  whose  expected  or  unexpected  daily 
intercourse  has  been  the  joy  of  my  profession  for 
forty-one  years.  But  I  must  have  parted  from  them 
at  seventy,  on  any  rational  expection  of  endurance, 
and  I  must  heed  the  command  of  Nature  if  she 
draws  the  line  at  sixty-six. 

This  news  I  rather  prefer  not  to  have  spread 
abroad  at  present,  though  not  a  few  now  have  it. 


109 


IX 

TO  PAUL  T.  LAFLEUR 

April  14,  1906. 

DEAR  MR.  LAFLEUR,  —  Our  Mr.  Mather  will  be 
much  pleased  with  your  approval  of  his  recent  article. 

If  Brunetiere's  "  Balzac  "  does  not  arrive  before 
you  sail,  it  can  readily  pursue  you  abroad  —  but  you 
must  leave  me  your  address.  I  will  set  you  down 
for  it.  But  now  I  must  make  what  is  to  me  a  very 
important  confidence :  when  you  return,  I  shall  no 
longer  be  editor  of  the  Nation.  The  truth  is,  I  have 
remained  too  long  in  the  mill,  practically  without  any 
vacation  whatever,  and  for  the  past  nine  months  I 
have  been  falling  away  in  nutrition  and  digestion, 
writh  a  visitation  of  sciatica  from  which  I  am  just 
emerging.  Sentimentally,  I  should  have  liked  to 
round  out  forty-five  years  and  make  my  bow  at 
seventy,  but  if  Nature  says  forty-one  and  sixty-six 
respectively, "  The  wise  thinks  only  to  obey."  Accord 
ingly,  my  resignation  has  gone  in,  and  my  successors 
[have  been]  appointed.  Of  course  all  my  contracts 
and  engagements  will  be  honored. 

This  change  is  known  to  a  number  of  persons,  but 
it  is  desirable  not  to  advertise  it  now.  I  have  not  even 
110 


TO  PAUL  T.  LAFLEUR 

told  our  friend  Colby,  though  that  will  be  before 
long. 

It  is  rude  in  me  to  suggest  a  care  to  you  before  you 
sail  so  soon,  but  make  it  no  care  by  disregarding  what 
follows.  I  am  sending  you,  in  another  wrapper,  a 
little  brochure  of  youthful  poems  by  my  deceased 
son  —  valde  deflendus.  At  page  23  you  will  find  his 
"  Chloris,"  an  adaptation,  as  he  says,  from  Beranger's 
"  Glycere " ;  but  I  have  searched  many  editions  in 
vain,  and  better  scholars  have  sought  to  help  me  in 
vain.  If  you  do  not  recall  the  original  (of  whatever 
poet),  take  no  trouble  to  seek  it.  If  you  know  among 
your  colleagues  one  wTell  versed  in  French  poetry  and 
obliging  enough  at  his  entire  leisure  to  look  about  a 
little,  I  will  not  object  and  shall  indeed  be  grateful. 

A  prosperous  journey  to  you,  and  may  we  some  time 

meet  again. 

April  15,  1906. 

Instinct  is  a  great  matter,  and  how  rarely  it  was 
exemplified  in  my  resorting  to  you,  and  your  going 
straight  to  Saint e-Beuve  for  the  elusive  poem.  I  can 
not  be  too  grateful  to  you  for  this  discovery,  having 
in  mind  some  time  to  reprint  my  son's  verse,  and 
wishing  to  couple  his  adaptation  with  the  original. 

And  now  what  shall  I  say  to  all  your  kind  words 

about  our  relations  ?   This,  without  egotism,  that  I 

have  tried  to  merit  your  eulogism  —  there  could  be 

no  higher  —  where  you  speak  of  the  liberty  I  have 

111 


LETTERS 

allowed  to  my  co-laborers  consistently  with  the  ideals 
and  traditions  of  the  Nation.  I  have  refused  to 
make  their  judgments  square  with  my  prejudices  or 
ignorance,  or  their  style  with  my  rhetorical  notions. 
I  have  trusted  them  and  they  have  lovingly  responded. 
I  thank  you  with  emotion  for  having  perceived  this, 
and  for  permitting  me  to  preserve  this  honorable 
tribute  with  others  similar  which  this  time  of  parting 
evokes. 

I  do  not  believe  we  shall  quite  lose  sight  of  each 
other.  Though  I  may,  after  my  withdrawal,  be 
seldom  in  New  York,  my  home  will  continue  to  be 
not  far  off,  in  Llewellyn  Park,  Orange,  N.  J.,  and 
when  occasion  brings  you  to  the  metropolis,  I  hope 
you  will  give  me  an  opportunity  to  entertain  you. 

Especial  thanks,  dear  Mr.  Lafleur,  for  your  pains 
in  transcribing  "  Glycere." 

Once  more,  a  prosperous  journey  to  you. 
Gratefully  and  cordially  yours, 

WENDELL  P.  GARRISON. 


112 


X 

TO  F.  P.  NASH 

October  15,  1900. 

I  BELIEVE  that  you  have  had  previous  volumes  in 
the  Oxford  new  classical  series,  and  so  send  you  the 
Virgil  and  Csesar  (de  B.  G.).  I  don't  know  that  they 
will  suggest  even  a  few  lines  to  you. 

Let  me  use  this  occasion  to  thank  you  heartily  for 
your  feeling  words  of  consolation.  And  will  you  ex 
tend  this  acknowledgment  to  McDaniels?  Tell  him, 
Je  me  recueille.  There  is  an  immediate  compensa 
tion  in  the  taking  into  my  family  of  Lloyd's  noble 
wife  and  lovely  children,  and  in  the  birth  of  a  son  to 
my  daughter,  Mrs.  Norton,  the  day  after  her  beloved 
brother  was  buried. 

Tenderly  and  gratefully  yours. 

February  17,  1902. 

Believe  me  that  I  never  grudged  you  a  line  of  the 
notice  of  the  Oxford  book,  being  but  too  thankful 
to  find  in  you  an  expert  competent  to  deal  with  so 
abstruse  a  subject.  It  is  such  reviews  that  give  the 
Nation  the  reputation  for  which  you  would  make 
"  the  man  behind  the  gun  "  responsible.  In  my  craft 
the  passengers  count  for  more  than  the  tillerman. 
113 


LETTERS 

March  28,  1902. 

I  was  truly  sorry  to  conclude  that  I  could  not  ac 
cept  your  flattering  invitation  for  June.  My  mind  is 
so  much  occupied  with  endless  routine,  and  with 
occasional  outside  jobs,  that  it  is  far  from  bursting 
for  expression  on  miscellaneous  subjects,  and  needs 
much  leisure  and  repose  to  prepare  anything  worthy 
of  a  set  occasion.  Then,  my  inherited  habit  and  the 
contracted  space  of  the  Nation  have  cultivated  con 
ciseness,  so  that  even  half  an  hour's  discourse  seems 
prolix  to  me.  But  a  certain  amount  of  prolixity  is 
necessary  to  make  discourse  genial  and  agreeable. 

November  14,  1902. 

I  fully  agree  with  you  about  Carducci's  excessive 
production ;  but  of  how  many  great  and  genuine  poets 
this  is  true !  One  feels  this  acutely  in  Goethe's  case 
when  one  views  the  sweepings  of  album  pieces  and 
the  like  carefully  bound  up  with  his  masterpieces. 
It  is  the  penalty  of  greatness,  and  the  juvenile  of 
fences  must,  as  you  suggest,  often  be  perpetuated 
by  their  author  in  self-defence  against  pirates  and 
botchers.  Besides,  they  have  their  moral  and  psy 
chologic  worth,  like  all  beginnings. 

I  have  but  just  begun  on  Carducci's  volume,  and, 
dipping  in  at  random,  I  have  discovered  only  one 
poem  which  seems  to  me  below  the  level  of  his  repu 
tation  —  "  The  Turk's  Harvesting."  It  belongs  in 
114 


TO  F.  P.  NASH 

the  category  of  "occasional  verse,"  which  is  the 
poet's  greatest  pitfall  the  world  over. 

The  volume  was  given  me  by  my  friend  Signora 
Mario,  "  J.  W.  M."  of  our  Italian  correspondence, 
who  waited  until  she  could  procure  an  inscription 
from  the  poet's  own  hand.  Having  quite  unexpectedly 
been  led  to  rhyme  in  English  his  inimitable  rhythm  in 
"  In  una  Villa,"  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  use  it 
in  print  as  an  acknowledgment  of  Carducci's  courtesy ; 
and  then  that  some  of  my  friends  might  like  the 
Italian  at  least.  So  I  had  more  than  one  copy  struck 

off. 

October  7,  1903. 

I  venture  to  send  you,  for  as  brief  mention  as  you 
please,  a  volume  of  post-Augustan  Latin  selections, 
which  would  have  looked  very  tempting  to  me  as  a 
school-boy,  and  wrhich  perhaps  deserves  a  good  word. 
Also,  one  on  Italy  and  the  Italians,  which  seems  to  me 
better  than  its  denominational  imprint  might  lead  us 
to  expect.  But  you  shall  judge. 

You  are,  I  trust,  much  the  better  for  your  Wander- 
jahre.  It  is  good  to  think  of  you  as  being  on  this  side 
of  the  water  again.  I  need  not  say  that  your  letter 
to  me  from  Paris  was  most  gratifying  in  every  aspect 
—  quite  as  much  to  me  as  a  friend  as  in  the  capacity 
of  verse-maker :  but  I  did  appreciate  very  much 
Mrs.  Nash's  approval  of  the  feeling  of  my  little  col 
lection. 

115 


LETTERS 

July  8,  1905. 

You  can  imagine  the  weight  of  correspondence 
suddenly  thrown  upon  me  by  the  stunning  event  of 
Thursday  —  a  bolt  out  of  a  clear  sky  if  there  ever 
was  one.  Hence  the  delay  in  acknowledging  your 
most  kind  and  affectionate  private  greeting  on  an 
anniversary  which  hardly  seems  my  own.  I  am  quite 
unable  to  respond  adequately  to  so  sudden  an  out 
pouring  of  regard  from  a  body  of  men  whom  you 
rightly  place  among  the  elite  of  this  nation,  and  of 
the  English-speaking  world.  Of  a  general  good-will 
to  my  fellows  I  am  conscious,  and  this  is  touched 
here  and  there  into  a  closer  sentiment  of  warm  regard 
or  of  love ;  but  my  somewhat  cold  nature  looks  with 
surprise  on  the  attachment  revealed  in  the  letters 
you  have  selected  for  me,  and  which,  as  I  wrote  S.,  I 
read  with  a  sense  of  impropriety.  Still,  that  saying 
of  Coleridge's  — 

O  Lady,  we  receive  but  what  we  give, 

has  both  a  mechanical  and  a  psychical  verity,  and  the 
testimonial  given  to  the  plodding  editor  owes  its 
warmth  to  some  latent  emanation  from  himself  which 
he  hardly  suspected. 

I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart  for  your  long  friend 
ship  and  collaboration,  and  for  your  not  inconsider 
able  labor  in  connection  with  the  testimonial,  which 
will  appear  more  real  to  my  posterity  than  it  can 
116 


TO  F.  P.  NASH 

ever  appear  to  me.  You  need  envy  me  nothing,  while 
I  envy  you  the  privacy  from  which  I  have  been 
dragged  into  the  common  light  of  day.  This  I  could 
well  have  spared. 

July  22,  1905. 

I  am  glad  your  labors  with  the  testimonial  are 
nearing  an  end.  I  shall  quietly  put  the  stragglers  in 
my  casket  with  the  rest ;  and  they  must  be  satisfied 
with  my  statement  that  the  list  necessarily  fell  short 
under  the  circumstances.  Renewed  thanks  for  so 
much  trouble  animated  by  so  much  good -will.  It  was 
truly  gratifying  to  learn  of  your  son's  harking  back  to 
Italy  in  his  engagement  — 

Ou  le  pere  a  passe 
Passera  bien  1'enfant. 

And  how  I  envy  you  the  pleasure  of  a  return  to  your 
fosterland  under  such  conditions. 

I  took  with  me  to  Niagara  Falls  the  other  day, 
when  I  enjoyed  the  company  of  Goldwin  Smith,  the 
first  volume  of  D'Azeglio's  "Memoirs,"  and  found 
it  equal  to  its  reputation  for  delightful  and  morally 
bracing  reading. 

August,  1905. 

I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  take  your  view  of  the 

necessity  of  printing  a  supplementary  list  of  friends 

and  contributors  to  the  testimonial.   Obviously,  with 

reference  to  the  6th  of  July  there  was  a  time  when 

117 


LETTERS 

the  list  must  be  closed  for  first  publication ;  and  the 
13th  brought  a  natural  final  closure,  under  circum 
stances  which  those  left  out  could  clearly  understand , 
and  would,  if  reasonable,  not  quarrel  with.  In  fact, 
though  I  have  received  several  expressions  of  disap 
pointment,  no  one  has  expressed  a  hope  of  a  supple 
mentary  roster.  And  you  will  see  that  if  those  actually 
served  with  the  circular  are  alone  included  in  the  new 
list,  those  who  escaped  service  would  have  their 
grievance.  I  think  I  can  trust  the  good  sense  of  my 
staff. 


118 


XI 

TO  G.  N.  S. 

July  24,  1903. 

YOUR  letter  reaches  me  promptly,  and  I  celebrate  its 
arrival  by  preparing  the  Tebtunis  for  the  printer,  with 
not  a  line  erased.  After  begging  my  contributors  to 
take  in  sail  in  view  of  the  September  breakers,  I  have 
been  almost  panic-stricken  by  fear  of  a  shortage,  and 
have  had  to  drum  up  the  tardy  and  promise  them 
much  elbow-room.  I  believe  I  am  now  safe,  but  such 
crises,  annually  recurring,  remind  me  how  risky  it  is 
for  the  Nation  to  have  but  a  single  hand  at  the  helm. 
And  I  naturally  also  ask  myself  if  my  judgment  is 
getting  weak.  Hence  you  may  judge  of  my  satisfac 
tion  with  your  praise  of  recent  numbers. 

October  1,  1904. 

A  fortnight  ago  to-day  I  set  out  for  Middlebury, 
Vt.,  to  be  the  guest  of  my  friend  Mr.  Means,  and  to 
walk  with  him  for  four  days,  if  possible,  among  the 
Green  Mountains.  We  struck  that  cold  wave  of 
September  20-22,  but  that  only  gave  us  finer  color 
ing  in  the  foliage ;  the  sequel  of  the  frost  was  a  rain 
which  docked  our  tramping  just  one  half.  On  the 
second  day  we  took  the  rail  to  Montpelier,  and  there 
119 


LETTERS 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  my  classmate  Wright 
and  his  family,  but  in  a  divided  way,  as  he  had  a 
vestry  meeting  to  conduct.  He  looks  well  and  vigor 
ous,  and  keeps  his  gray  hairs  under,  not  with  the 
helmet,  but  with  baldness  and  shaving.  Thirty-one 
years  ago  I  was  his  guest  in  the  same  place. 

October  4,  1905. 

The  Post  made  an  editorial  article  out  of  the  book 
I  am  sending  you,  but  I  rather  preferred  the  regular 
review.  I  refer  to  the  Life  of  the  late  Professor  E. 
North.  It  is  bulky,  but  highly  skippable.  It  may 
suggest  to  you  some  reflections  on  the  bright  side  of 
the  small  college. 

I  am  fairly  immeshed  in  the  autumn  product  of 
our  book-presses,  and  shall  be  busy  enough  till  spring. 

My  New  York  grandchildren  are  still  with  me, 
and  I  hope  we  shall  not  part  company  till  the  20th. 
I  have  at  last  seen  my  way  to  procure  a  lantern  as  a 
permanent  article  of  furniture  in  my  home,  and  ex 
pect  to  have  many  happy  hours  with  these  and  other 
youngsters  in  showing  off  my  slides,  of  which  I  have 
a  fair  number  already. 

May  14,  1906. 

I  gladly  print  the  enclosed.1  I  could  not  my 
self  have  written  the  Nation  article  2  (soil.  Post). 

1  On  the  Crapsey  incident. 

2  Nation,  vol.  82,  p.  359,  "Clerical  Veracity." 

120 


TO  G.  N.  S. 

There  was  too  much  casuistry  in  Sidgwick's  position. 
(This  morning  comes  a  notice  of  his  "  Life  and  Let 
ters.") 

I  am  getting  on  very  well,  and  each  day  my  free 
dom —  "a   defeated   joy,"  as   Shakspere   has   it — 
draws  nearer.   My  first  action  will  be  the  voyage  to 
New  Brunswick.    What  follows  is  mapped  out,  but 
is  more  or  less  uncertain  as  to  date. 

June  1,  1906. 

I  myself  am  more  than  fairly  well,  though  I  make 
no  flesh.  I  shall  pull  comfortably  through  till  finis 
comes  —  finis  Nationis  at  least.  And  that  bit  of 
Latinism  reminds  me  that  Senter  has  just  re-read 
Felton's  Greek  Reader,  to  his  entire  satisfaction  ex 
cept  in  the  wretched  print.  If  shut  up  to  it,  I  believe 
I  could  do  the  same,  but  more  toilsomely.  It  was  a 
good  book,  and  I  am  glad  we  w^ere  brought  up  on  it. 

June  23,  1906. 

It  would  have  gratified  me  much  to  be  able  to 
gratify  your  sentiment  about  appearing  in  my  last 
number.  .  .  .  Well,  every  day  I  say:  Here  I  must 
pause ;  responsibility  passes,  and  the  new  men  must 
take  up  the  parable. 

Do  not  think  that  my  prevailing  tone  is  sad.  Emo 
tional  moments  occur  as  one  after  another  among  the 
Nation  men  says  good-bye  in  terms  of  warmth  and 
121 


LETTERS 

affection  akin  to  your  own  —  yesterday  from  Japan. 
But  my  grand  refusal  has  been  made  without  shrink 
ing  and  without  repining.  The  future  does  not  now 
concern  me.  I  have  virtually  a  year's  leave  of  absence, 
with  a  life  pension  if  I  can  bring  myself  to  accept. 
My  intellectual  interests  can  never  leave  me  idle  or 
discontented.  I  hate  change,  but  I  adjust  myself 
readily  to  the  new  order. 

My  immediate  plans  are  as  follows :  On  July  9  I 
take  ship  for  Portland,  where  I  hope  to  have  an  hour 
or  two  with  Thaxter.  My  destination  is  the  St.  John 
River,  and  my  diversion  exploring  the  records  of  my 
father's  ancestors  and  completing  my  acquaintance 
with  the  country.  It  is  quite  impossible  to  estimate 
how  long  this  will  detain  me.  Returning,  I  shall  call 
on  a  cousin  in  Halifax,  touch  at  Boston  and  at  Provi 
dence,  and  wind  up  in  August  at  Martha's  Vine 
yard,  where  my  daughter  Katherine  has  taken  a  cot 
tage  for  the  summer,  at  West  Chop.  John  Ritchie  is 
close  by  at  Cottage  City,  and  had  previously  agreed 
to  take  me  in.  Here  I  shall  stay  till  about  Sept.  15, 
when  I  must  release  my  Philip  for  his  shooting  on 
Lake  Ontario.  After  that  my  plans  are  vague,  but 
include  taking  the  highroad  with  my  knapsack,  as 
long  as  the  fine  weather  lasts. 

I  am  just  about  pulling  through  and  ask  no  more. 


122 


TO  G.  N.  S. 

ST.  JOHN,  N.  B.,  July  14,  1906. 

I  left  home  by  sea  on  Monday  last  at  as  low  an 
ebb  of  strength  and  enjoyment  of  life  as  I  have  ever 
experienced.  My  family  would  have  detained  me 
by  force;  but  it  was  better  to  break  away  than  to 
deliquesce  like  a  jelly-fish  at  home.  I  had  two  days 
and  a  night  with  Thaxter  at  his  delightful  home  on 
Cushing's  Island  in  Portland  Harbor,  and  I  charged 
him  solemnly  to  run  down  and  spend  a  night  with 
you.  Had  time  and  force  permitted,  I  would  have 
done  it  myself. 

I  am  detained  here  two  days  by  the  failure  of  my 
trunk  to  arrive  with  me.  On  Monday  I  expect  to 
ascend  the  St.  John  River  for  a  week  or  so,  returning 
to  this  hotel,  when,  if  much  improved  (and  I  am 
already  better),  I  may  cross  over  to  Halifax  to  visit 
a  cousin,  and  thence  to  Boston.  My  daughter  Kath- 
erine  has  taken  a  cottage  at  Martha's  Vineyard,  and  I 
expect  to  spend  most  of  August  and  part  of  Septem 
ber  with  her.  Then  I  shall  go  home  to  plan  a  few 
excursions  before  winter  sets  in. 

I  hope  you  will  not  fail  of  your  European  trip,  and 
that  you  can  visit  us  in  Orange  while  awaiting  your 
steamer.  May  you  forget  your  cares  as  completely 
as  I  have  already  forgotten  the  Nation.  I  have  a 
great  faculty  for  breaking  sharp  off  with  the  routine 
of  years. 

Hardy  was  kind  enough  to  report  our  Class  dinner 
123 


LETTERS 

for  us.    His  letter,  which  I  here  enclose,  has  been 
shared  with  Thaxter. 

ORANGE,  N.  J.,  September  18,  1906. 

I  was  much  relieved  to  learn  of  your  successful 
operation.  Your  condition  must  have  been  not  only 
distressing  but  dangerous.  I  have  had  nothing  so  bad 
as  that,  and  while  my  sciatica  has  not  wholly  left  me, 
and  my  digestion  is  still  my  weak  point,  I  believe  I 
am  on  the  ascent.  My  stay  at  Martha's  Vineyard 
was  decidedly  beneficial ;  I  am  now  in  the  midst  of 
diversion;  and  after  the  remarriage  of  Mrs.  Lloyd 
Garrison,  which  takes  place  on  the  29th,  I  am  go 
ing  to  spend  the  month  of  October  with  my  daughter 
at  Lake  Forest.  This,  I  think,  should  finally  set  me 
up.  Meantime  I  have  begun  a  series  of  treatments 
at  the  hands  of  an  expert  masseur.  .  .  . 

I  thank  you  heartily  for  the  solicitude  expressed 
in  your  letter.  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  write  to 
me.  If  N.  is  returned,  pray  give  him  my  warm 
regards,  and  tell  him  that  having  read  four  fifths  of 
Carducci's  verse  this  summer,  I  quite  agree  with 
his  verdict,  which  I  have  cherished.  Some  oppor 
tunity  may  arise  to  ventilate  my  reflections  on  this 
poet. 

The  Atlantic  has  made  me  overtures  for  essays, 
but  I  have  declined  to  make  any  engagements  for 
1907.  My  winter  occupation  is  gradually  taking  on 
124 


TO  G.  N.  S. 

a  form,  but  everything  will  be  subordinated  to  my 

recovery. 

LAKE  FOREST,  ILL.,  October  29,  1906. 

I  take  leave  of  my  daughter  and  her  unfailing  at 
tentions  on  Thursday  next,  Nov.  1,  to  return  directly 
home.  I  regret  to  add  that  my  physical  condition  is, 
as  when  leaving  Martha's  Vineyard  last  month,  at  a 
sort  of  anticlimax,  an  obstinate  cold  having  contrib 
uted  to  pull  me  down,  in  combination  with  weather 
that  has  kept  me  housed  for  several  days.  (As  I  write, 
the  ground  is  white  with  falling  snow.)  I  fear  I  have 
begun  to  lose  flesh  again,  and  it  is  time  I  returned  to 
my  own  physician  and  began  a  concerted  attack  on 
the  enemy.  A  weak  back  reduces  my  reading  capacity 
to  a  minimum,  and  produces  an  inertia  that  forbids 
creative  writing.  My  son-in-law  has  called  in  the 
masseur,  which  is  well  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  I  had 
had  a  few  treatments  before  leaving  home;  but  it 
seems  almost  absurd  to  thump  a  skeleton.  So,  for 
the  moment,  "  Mit  schwarzen  Segeln  segelt  mein 
Schiff,"  or,  in  Carducci's  fine  rendering  of  Heine, 
"Passa  la  nave  mia  con  vele  nere." 

Your  friendly  interest  alone  wrould  induce  me  to 
burden  you  with  these  invalid  details,  for  I  more 
and  more  perceive  how  easily  one  lapses  into  talk 
about  himself  and  his  petty  miseries.  I  believe  I  have 
half  engaged  to  keep  you  posted  as  to  my  progress, 
and  this  shall  be  my  excuse, 
125 


LETTERS 

ORANGE,  N.  J.,  December  8,  1906. 

I  have  been  for  some  time  meaning  to  write  you, 
but  have  delayed  for  want  of  something  definite  to 
report.  One  precious  thing  I  have  now  recovered, 
though  it  is  still  under  electrical  treatment,  to  wit,  my 
backbone.  This  has  fairly  restored  me  to  life,  as  I 
can  walk  (subject  to  very  tottery  legs),  read  and  write, 
and  regulate  my  days  with  pleasure  and  economy. 
As  things  were,  I  had  written  a  little  something 
for  the  Nation  every  month  except  July,  and  pre 
sently  you  will  see  a  longer  essay  in  my  forthcoming 
notice  of  Erasmus's  Correspondence  —  a  sort  of 
souffle  of  my  very  superficial  acquaintance  with  that 
great  man  and  his  writings.  I  was  led  into  this  by  my 
desire  to  know  him  better,  and  for  the  same  reason 
I  am  implicated  in  another  long  review  anent  my  old 
friend,  Jean  Jacques.  To  these  temptations  from  the 
office  I  am  always  liable,  but  I  decline  miscellaneous 
tenders  of  books.  My  time-table  for  the  winter  is 
not  yet  established,  and  cannot  be  so  long  as  I  am  a 
slave  to  medical  treatment;  but  I  have  a  job  I  would 
fain  execute  when  my  steady  progress  towards  re 
covery  is  assured. 

You  will  be  pleased  to  know  that  a  consulting 
physician  has  found  my  organism  as  sound  as  did 
my  own. 

From  the  foregoing  you  may  perceive  that  I  shall 
be  no  obstacle  to  your  little  visit  before  sailing. 
126 


TO   G.   N.  S. 

Count  upon  it  as  we  do,  and  come  and  view  the  nest, 
the  baby,  the  happy  parents,  their  father,  and  the  Vase. 
I  am  expecting  this  afternoon  a  singularly  grace 
ful  gift  from  John  Forbes's  daughter,  Mrs.  Hughes 
(most  like  him  in  face  and  temper  of  all  his  children). 
She  has  been  an  occasional  contributor  to  the  Nation, 
and  sends  me  a  souvenir,  of  double  interest  and  value, 
being  one  of  Mrs.  Stillman's  water-colors. 

LLEWELLYN  PAEK,  ORANGE,  N.  J., 
December  21,  1906. 

S.  sleeps  here  to-night  and  stays  over  till  Sunday, 
and  thoughts  of  Geneva  are  naturally  in  my  mind.  I 
shall  tell  him,  what  I  now  tell  you,  that  a  week  from 
to-day  I  must  undergo  examination,  possibly  an 
operation,  for  the  cause  of  my  depleted  system,  which 
barely  holds  its  own  against  innutrition.  There  is 
some  risk  according  to  what  may  be  discovered, 
and  I  am  beginning  provisional  good-byes — to  you 
now,  with  all  regret.  For  a  little  souvenir  of  our 
friendship  I  am  mailing  to  you  a  carbon  print  of 
my  patron  saint  Rousseau,  after  Allan  Ramsay's 
oil  painting  in  the  National  Gallery  at  Edinburgh, 
painted  by  Hume's  order  in  1766.  It  is  one  of  the  two 
authentic  portraits  that  have  come  down  to  us,  and 
by  far  the  more  interesting.  The  print  I  had  made 
myself,  and  Kruell  has  engraved  it,  but  not  quite 
with  his  usual  success. 

127 


LETTERS 

I  have  an  uneasy  feeling  that  I  gave  you  a  copy 
some  time  ago  (this  is  my  last).  If  so,  pardon  me, 
and  give  it  to  McDaniels  on  his  return,  or  to  the  Col 
lege  Library.  I  could  have  framed  it,  but  this  has 
been  too  long  put  off. 

With  grateful  regard  for  all  your  good -will  to  me, 
and  many  kindnesses,  and   in  the  hope  that  the 
doctor's  fears  may  be  falsified,  I  am 
Steadfastly  your  old  friend. 

SOUTH  ORANGE,  N.  J.,  January  10,  1907. 

I  might  have  written  you  propria  manu  the  day 
after  my  operation,  which  had  no  perceptible  effect 
on  my  system  in  any  way  or  degree  beyond  the  local 
wound ;  but  I  knew  my  children  could  be  trusted  to 
keep  you  informed  of  my  condition.  That  has  since 
steadily  improved,  and  I  am  at  last  allowed  to  be 
propped  up  twice  a  day  in  bed,  as  I  am  now.  The 
sun  is  streaming  in  upon  me ;  I  have  just  had  a  visit 
from  my  daughter  Alice.  My  Katherine  at  Lake 
Forest  on  Sunday  was  delivered  of  a  splendid  boy 
baby,  to  be  known  as  Charles  McKim. 

Under  these  auspices,  I  think  you  can  cheerfully 
take  leave  of  my  gaunt  body  in  the  reasonable  ex 
pectation  of  finding  it  repaired  and  rounded  out  on 
your  return.  My  love  will  attend  you  wherever  you 
go;  and  share  it  also  with  our  good  Fiske. 


128 


TO  G.  N.  S. 

I  have  dispensed  Marian  from  writing  to  your 
ship. 

The  little  Italian  dialect  volume  will  surely  amuse 
me. 


XII 

LAST  LETTERS 

DR.  RUNTON'S  SANATORIUM, 
SOUTH  ORANGE,  N.  J.,  January  20,  1907. 

DEAR  MR.  POLLAK,  —  For  the  first  time  in  nearly 
four  weeks  I  am  sitting  bolt  upright,  and  I  begin 
celebration  of  this  luxury  by  acknowledging  your 
first  letter  of  sympathy  and  family  news  —  all  most 
welcome  and  earning  my  heartiest  thanks.  I  cannot 
reply  in  any  proportionate  measure.  .  .  . 

Success  to  your  Grillparzer.  My  own  future  occu 
pation  promises  to  be  quite  as  great  as  I  can  cope  with, 
and  I  may  prove  to  be  very  little  of  my  own  master. 
Dabbling  in  art  has  been  in  my  mind  and  may  be  at 
tempted,  but  I  should  more  naturally  resume  wood- 
engraving  than  turn  to  wood-carving;  though  my 
mechanical  hands  can  hardly  have  grown  skillful  by 
disuse.  A  book  or  two  floats  through  my  mind,  and 
I  shall  always  be  noticing  for  the  Nation  books 
which  relate  to  my  hobbies.  .  .  . 

It  is  good  to  be  reminded  of  your  family  and  of 
your  continued  friendship  for  one  whom  you  have 
always  overrated  and  who  now  signs  himself, 

Gratefully  yours,         WENDELL  P.  GARRISON. 

GUSTAV  POLLAK. 

130 


SOUTH  ORANGE,  N.  J. 
February  18,  1907. 

MY  DEAR  THAYER,  —  Your  thoughtful  and  feel 
ing  letter  was  addressed  to  one  who  is  of  little  further 
use  and  to  be  included  in  the  Necrology  of  the  next 
Harvard  Graduates'  Magazine.  An  abdominal  tumor 
is  devouring  me  and  it  is  time  to  think  of  a  partita 
onesta.  Your  words  are  all  too  kind.  Your  friendship 
in  the  past  most  constant  and  loyal.  Thanks  and 
good-bye. 

WENDELL  P.  GARRISON. 

per  K.  N.  G. 
W.  R.  THAYEH. 

(Extract  from  a  farewell  letter  to  Mrs.  Henry  Villard,  dated 
December  21,  1906,  received  by  her  after  her  brother's  death.) 

I  pass  into  the  sleep  we  call  death  without  appre 
hension  or  hesitation.  Much  I  should  have  liked 
to  do  —  not  necessary  but  interesting,  and  mean 
while  watched  the  growth  of  the  second  generation, 
so  varied  in  appearance  and  character.  Something 
I  had  counted  on  satisfying  with  you  this  winter 
—  my  imperishable  love  of  music.  It  was  not  to  be, 
and  I  submit. 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

OF 

THE  NATION 


A   NOTEWORTHY  ANNIVERSARY1 

FORTY  years  ago  to-day,  July  6, 1865,  was  published 
the  first  number  of  the  Nation.  From  the  very  begin 
ning  until  now,  its  literary  editor  has  been  Mr. 
Wendell  Phillips  Garrison ;  and  in  recognition  of  his 
long  and  rare  service,  a  number  of  contributors  to  the 
Nation  have,  on  this  anniversary,  quietly  prepared  a 
testimonial  of  their  admiration  and  regard.  Their 
names  stand  for  so  much,  and  the  tribute  they  pay 
is  so  distinguished,  that  the  Evening  Post,  even  at  the 
risk  of  going  counter  to  Mr.  Garrison's  spirit  of  self- 
effacement,  must  record  the  high  honor  done  to  one 
of  whom  all  his  colleagues  in  this  office  are  proud. 
To  have  directed  for  forty  years,  with  such  zeal  and 
taste  and  lofty  ideals,  a  journal  reflecting  the  finest 
scholarship  and  the  soundest  public  morals  of  Amer 
ica,  is  an  achievement  without  parallel  in  our  literary 
annals.  How  fortunate  the  Nation  was  from  the  first 
in  its  corps  of  contributors  may  be  seen  from  the  list 
of  them  printed  in  its  earliest  issue.  After  premising 
in  its  prospectus  that  it  would  "  not  be  the  organ  of 
any  party,  sect,  or  body,"  and  promising  to  "  make 
an  earnest  effort  to  bring  to  the  discussion  of  political 
and  social  questions  a  really  critical  spirit,"  while 

1  Editorial  in  the  New  York  Evening  Post,  July  6,  1905. 
135 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

entrusting  its  art  and  literary  criticism  to  "  writers 
possessing  special  qualifications,"  it  stated  that  it  em 
braced  "  among  its  regular  or  occasional  contribu 
tors  "  the  following  names :  — 

HENRY  W.  LONGFELLOW,  PROFESSOR  TAYLER  LEWIS 
JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL,  (Schenectady), 

JOHN  G.  WHITTIER,  JUDGE  WAYLAND, 

SAMUEL    ELIOT     (ex-President  FREDERICK  LAW  OLMSTED, 

Trinity  College,  Hartford),  REV.  DR.  MCCLINTOCK, 

PROFESSOR  TORREY  (Harvard),  REV.  DR.  Jos.  P.  THOMPSON, 

DR.  FRANCIS  LIBBER,  REV.  PHILLIPS  BROOKS, 

PROFESSOR    GOLDWIN    SMITH  REV.  DR.  BELLOWS, 

(Oxford),  C.  J.  STILLE, 

PROFESSOR  CHILD  (Harvard),  HENRY  T.  TUCKERMAN, 

HENRY  JAMES,  BAYARD  TAYLOR, 

CHARLES  E.  NORTON,  C.  A.  BRISTED, 

JUDGE  BOND  (Baltimore),  C.  L.  BRACE, 

EDMUND  QUINCY,  RICHARD  GRANT  WHITE, 

PROFESSOR   W.   D.   WHITNEY  WILLIAM  LLOYD  GARRISON, 

(Yale),  SYDNEY  GEORGE  FISHER, 

PROFESSOR    D.     C.     GILMAN  THEODORE  TILTON, 

(Yale),  JAMES  PARTON, 

JUDGE  DALY,  GAIL  HAMILTON. 
PROFESSOR  DWIGHT  (Columbia 

College), 

Of  that  eminent  list,  four  survive,  and  three  still 
write  for  the  Nation.  One  of  them,  Professor  Charles 
Eliot  Norton,  prepared  the  subjoined  note  of  con 
gratulation  :  — 


136 


OF  THE  NATION 

July  6,  1905. 

DEAR  MR.  GARRISON,  —  We  wish  to  congratulate 
you  upon  completing  forty  years  as  literary  editor 
and  of  late  as  director  of  the  Nation. 

Your  service,  performed  quietly,  but  without  rest 
or  compromise,  has  been  of  great  value.  You  have 
made  the  Nation  for  more  than  a  generation  the  chief 
literary  journal  in  America  —  the  medium  of  the  best 
criticism,  and  the  mouthpiece  of  high  intellectual 
ideals.  Long  may  you  have  strength  to  continue  in 
this  inestimable  work.  As  we  send  you  our  greet 
ing,  we  cannot  forget  how  easily  and  with  what  gra- 
ciousness  you  transmute  your  editorial  relation  into 
friendship. 

Cordially  yours, 


With  Professor  Norton  were  associated  Mr.  Charles 
Francis  Adams,  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith,  and  Mr.  James 
Ford  Rhodes,  while  Mr.  William  Roscoe  Thayer 
and  Professor  J.  H.  McDaniels  were  the  committee 
to  receive  signatures.  As  the  purpose  of  the  com 
mittee  could  be  carried  out  only  on  condition  that  it 
should  be  an  entire  surprise  to  Mr.  Garrison,  no 
complete  list  of  contributors  to  the  Nation  since  its 
inception  could  be  secured,  but  only  such  a  partial 
one  as  could  be  obtained  by  stealth.  Hence  the  in 
evitable  omission  of  a  good  many  names,  chiefly  of 
137 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 


the  older  contributors,  to  the  great  regret  of  the  com 
mittee,  who  will  gladly  add  the  names  of  any  one 
who  should  have,  but  has  not,  received  their  circular. 
Circulars  for  signature  may  be  obtained  from  Pro 
fessor  Francis  Philip  Nash,  Geneva,  N.  Y. 

In  alphabetical  order,  the  signatures  are  as  follows  : 


WILBUR  C.  ABBOTT, 
CHARLES  F.  ADAMS, 
GEORGE  BURTON  ADAMS, 
FREDERIC  BANCROFT, 
AD.  F.  BANDELIER, 
CARL  BECKER, 
BERNHARD  BERENSON, 
CARL  EDWARD  BILLQUIST, 
WILLIAM  HENRY  BISHOP, 
GEORGE  WILLIS  BOTSFORD, 
EDWARD  G.  BOURNE, 
H.  P.  BOWDITCH, 
GAMALIEL  BRADFORD, 
WM.  ASPINWALL  BRADLEY, 
W.  HAND  BROWNE, 
W.  C.  BROWNELL, 
JAMES  BRYCE, 
CARL  DARLING  BUCK, 
JOHN  H.  BUCK, 
CHARLES  J.  BULLOCK, 
WM.  H.  BURNHAM, 
JAMES  DAVIS  BUTLEB, 
WM.  H.  CARPENTER, 
LUCIEN  CARR, 

ALEXANDER  F.  CHAMBERLAIN, 
TITUS  MUNSON  COAN, 
CHARLES  W.  COLBY, 
MARTIN  CONWAY, 


MONCURE  D.  CONWAY, 
ARCHIBALD  GARY  COOLIDGE, 
LANE  COOPER, 
KENYON  Cox, 
T.  FREDERICK  CRANE, 
R.  J.  CROSS, 
WM.  H.  DALL, 
WINTHROP  MORE  DANIELS, 
W.  M.  DAVIS, 
N.  DARNELL  DAVIS, 
FRANK  MILLS  DAY, 
A.  V.  DICEY, 
FRANK  HAIGH  DIXON, 
WM.  E.  DODD, 
DANIEL  KILHAM  DODGE, 
Louis  DYER, 
ALICE  MORSE  EARLE, 
JAMES  C.  EGBERT, 
OLIVER  FARRAR  EMERSON, 
EPHRAIM  EMERTON, 
S.  F.  EMMONS, 
GASTON  FAY, 
WTM.  I.  FLETCHER, 
WORTH INGTON  C.  FORD, 
WILLIAM  E.  FOSTER, 
HAROLD  N.  FOWLER, 
WILMER  CAVE  FRANCE, 
KUNO  FRANCKE, 
138 


OF  THE  NATION 


CHRISTINE  LADD  FRANKLIN, 
FABIAN  FRANKLIN, 
SAMUEL  GARMAN, 
JAMES  M.  GARNETT, 
RICHARD  GARNETT, 
GEORGE  P.  GARRISON, 
BASIL  L.  GILDERSLEEVE, 
CHAS.  II.  GILLETT, 
DANIEL  C.  GILMAN, 
LAWRENCE  GODKIN, 
GEORGE  LINCOLN  GOODALE, 
CASPER  F.  GOODRICH, 
WILLIAM  W.  GOODWIN, 
C.  H.  GRANDGENT, 
FRANCIS  V.  GREENE, 
FERRIS  GREENSLET, 
APPLETON  P.  C.  GRIFFIN, 
WM.  ELLIOT  GRIFFIS, 
P.  GROTH, 
CURTIS  GUILD,  JR., 
FRANK  WARREN  HACKETT, 
ARTHUR  T.  HADLET, 
JAMES  D.  HAGUE, 
ISABEL  F.  HAPGOOD, 
GEORGE  MCLEAN  HARPER, 
CHARLES  HARRIS, 
GEORGE  WM.  HARRIS, 
ALBERT  BUSHNELL  HART, 
J.  M.  HART, 
HENRY  W.  HAYNES, 
Louis  HEILPRIN, 
ANGELO  HEILPRIN, 
GEORGE  HEMPL, 
C.  JUDSON  HERRICK, 

W7ATERMAN   TlIOMAS   HEWETT, 
T.    W.   HlGGINSON, 


FRIEDRICH  HIRTH, 
JACOB  H.  HOLLANDER, 
E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS, 
JAMES  MASCARENE  HUBBARD, 
CHARLES  H.  HULL, 
GAILLARD  HUNT, 
JAMES  H.  HYSLOP, 
EMMA  NORTON  IRELAND, 
A.  V.  WILLIAMS  JACKSON, 
T.  A.  JAGGAR, 
W:ILLIAM  JAMES, 
W.  H.  JOHNSON, 
MARY  AUGUSTA  JORDAN, 
AKSEL  G.  S.  JOSEPHSON, 
ALBERT  G.  KELLER, 
FRANCIS  W.  KELSEY, 

G.    L.    KlTTREDGE, 

HENRY  B.  KUMMEL, 
HAMMOND  LAMONT, 
WM.  COOLIDGE  LANE, 
CHARLES  R.  LANMAN, 
LE  COCQ  DE  LAUTREPPE, 
HENRY  C.  LEA, 
ERNEST  E.  LEMCKE, 
GEORGE  T.  LITTLE, 
HERBERT  M.  LIXDYD, 
ANNIE  MACFARLANE  LOGAN, 
CHAS.  F.  LUMMIS, 
WALTER  F.  McCALEB, 

J.    H.    McDANIELS, 

DUNCAN  B.  MACDONALD, 
WILLIAM  MACDONALD, 
A.  R.  MACDONOUGH, 
FRANCIS  ANDREW  MARCH, 
JESSIE  WHITE  MARIO, 
ALBERT  MATTHEWS, 


139 


THE   FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 


D.  McG.  MEANS, 
MANSFIELD  MERRIMAN, 
EDWARD  STOCKTON  MEYEK, 
CHARLES  H.  MOORE, 
JOHN  BASSETT  MOORE, 
MORRIS  H.  MORGAN, 
FRANCIS  PHILIP  NASH, 
W.  A.  NEILSON, 
SIMON  NEWCOMB, 
CLARK  S.  NORTHRTTP, 
CHARLES  ELIOT  NORTON, 
GRACE  NORTON, 
CHARLES  C.  NOTT, 
ALEXANDER  D.  NOTES, 
GEORGE  R.  NOTES, 
MCRROUGH  O'BRIEN, 
HOLLO  OGDEN, 
G.  H.  PALMER, 
HENRY  GREENLEAF  PEARSON, 
CHARLES  S.  PEIRCE, 
ELIZABETH  ROBINS  PENNELL, 
ISAAC  R.  PENNYPACKER, 
JOHN  P.  PETERS, 
GUSTAV  POLLAK, 
EDWARD  KENNARD  RAND, 
SALOMON  REINACH, 
JAMES  FORD  RHODES, 
RUFTJS  B.  RICHARDSON, 
EDWARD  ROBINSON, 
F.  N.  ROBINSON, 
JAMES  H.  ROBINSON, 
JOHN  C.  ROSE, 

JOSIAH   ROYCE, 

C.  S.  SARGENT, 

EVELYN  SCHUYLER  SCHAEFFER, 

F.  C.  S.  SCHILLER, 


GEORGE  H.  SCHODDE 
HENRY  SCHOFIELD, 
C.  SCHURZ, 

CHARLES  P.  G.  SCOTT, 
FRED  NEWTON  SCOTT, 
MARY  AUGUSTA  SCOTT, 
A.  G.  SEDGWICK, 
J.  HERBERT  SENTER, 
THOMAS  DAY  SEYMOUR, 
N.  S.  SHALER, 
GOLDWIN  SMITH, 
JOHN  B.  SMITH, 
MUNROE  SMITH, 
H.  MORSE  STEPHENS, 
JOHN  L.  STEWART, 
MARIE  STILLMAN, 
CHARLES  H.  STOCKTON, 
JOHN  TAPPAN  STODDARD, 

E.  A.  STRONG, 
W.  STRUNK,  JR., 
RUSSELL  STURGIS, 

F.  C.  DE  SUMICHRAST, 
CHARLES  W.  SUPER, 
LINDSAY  SWIFT, 

F.  W.  TAUSSIG, 
GEORGE  A.  THAYER, 
WILLIAM  R.  THAYER, 
CALVIN  THOMAS, 
CHARLES  C.  TORREY, 
CRAWFORD  H.  TOY, 
C.  C.  VERMEULE, 
OSWALD  GARRISON  VILLARD, 
JOHN  MARTIN  VINCENT, 
WILLISTON  WALKER, 
BENJAMIN  IDE  WHEELER, 
JAMES  R.  WHEELER, 


140 


OF  THE  NATION 

EDWAED  LUCAS  WHITE,  GEORGE  PARKER  WINSHIP, 

HORACE  WHITE,  C.  H.  E.  A.  WINSLOW, 

LEO  WIENER,  JOHN  E.  WOLFF, 

JOHN  HENRY  WIGMORE,  GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRT, 

BTJRT  G.  WILDER,  ALFRED  A.  WOODHULL. 

The  silver  vase  presented  to  Mr.  Garrison  is  in  the 
form  of  an  amphora,  decorated  about  the  foot  and 
neck  with  a  variant  of  the  Greek  honeysuckle  de 
sign,  the  pattern  being  sharply  relieved  against  an 
etched  background  covered  with  a  deposit  of  copper. 
The  two  handles  and  two  fillets  about  the  stem  are 
without  ornament  of  any  kind,  and  the  whole  effect 
is  severe  and  classical.  The  vase  has  been  provided 
with  detachable  lamp  fittings,  including  a  silver  shade 
bearing  the  honeysuckle  design  in  somewhat  bolder 
proportions  appropriate  to  the  larger  scale.  The  ded 
icatory  inscription  was  written  by  Gold  win  Smith, 
and  is  as  follows :  — 

PRESENTED  TO 

WENDELL   PHILLIPS   GARRISON 

AS  A  TOKEN   OF  GRATITUDE  FOR  THE  SERVICE  RENDERED  TO 

HIS   COUNTRY  BY   HIS   FORTY   YEARS   OF  ABLE, 

UPRIGHT,   AND  TRULY  PATRIOTIC  WORK 

IN  THE   EDITORSHIP  OF 

THE   NATION 

6TH  JULY  1905 


FORTY  YEARS  OF  THE  "  NATION "  J 

THE  Editor  of  the  Nation  had  not  intended  to 
plant  a  stake  on  the  completion  of  the  fortieth  year 
of  this  journal  with  its  last  issue  in  June.  Least  of 
all  a  personal  stake.  The  temporal  division  of  the 
day's  work  is  what  chiefly  interests  him,  and  always 
what  is  before  rather  than  what  is  behind.  Persist 
ency,  with  him,  is  in  the  bone,  and  on  this  inherit 
ance  of  nature  he  never  thought  to  plume  himself. 
His  co-laborers,  however,  would  have  it  otherwise, 
and  conspired  to  mark  the  term  by  a  testimonial 
which  they  presented  on  July  6,  the  date  of  the  very 
first  issue  of  the  Nation  in  1865.  An  inscribed  vase 
of  great  beauty  was  the  visible  token,  and  it  was  ac 
companied  by  a  congratulatory  note  signed  by  more 
than  two  hundred  of  the  Nation  s  staff,  some  equal 
veterans  with  the  editor.  Had  all  this  been  done  in  a 
corner,  it  should  so  have  remained  —  a  matter  among 
friends.  But  the  utter  secrecy  observed  in  carrying 
out  the  enterprise  having  been  followed  by  advertise 
ment  in  the  daily  press,  the  Editor  is  reluctantly  com 
pelled  to  share  the  news  with  his  own  readers. 

"You  have  made  the  Nation,"  runs  the  note,  "for 

1  From  the  Nation,  July  13,  1905,  vol.  81,  p.  30. 
142 


THE  NATION 

more  than  a  generation  the  chief  literary  journal  in 
America  —  the  medium  of  the  best  criticism,  and 
the  mouthpiece  of  high  intellectual  ideals."  Such 
has,  in  fact,  been  my  aim,  attended  let  others  judge 
with  what  success.  My  disclaimer  relates  to  the 
degree  of  individual  merit  implied.  It  is  true  that  I 
put  my  hand  to  the  plough  with  the  initial  number 
of  the  Nation  and  have  never  let  go  the  ploughtail. 
It  is  true,  also,  that  while  the  literary  department  was 
my  especial  charge,  I  participated  from  the  beginning 
as  a  writer  in  the  political  conduct  of  the  paper.  What 
is  needful  to  be  pointed  out  is,  that  I  came  to  the  task 
an  inexperienced  youth,  and  at  once  entered  into 
pupilage  to  a  great  writer  and  master  political  mor 
alist,  the  late  Edwin  Lawrence  Godkin,  whom  with 
admiring  eyes  I  saw 

"  Mount  in  his  glorious  course  on  competent  wing." 

He  it  was  that  shaped  the  framework  of  the  Nation 
and  gave  the  informing  spirit,  and  drew  around  him 
those  liberal  natures  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  who 
impressed  a  permanent  stamp  of  authority,  ideality, 
and  scholarship  on  the  paper.  In  the  tentative  days, 
Mr.  Godkin  was  intimately  counselled  by  Charles 
Eliot  Norton,  one  of  the  indispensable  founders  of 
the  Nation,  and  still  one  of  its  oldest  as  well  as  most 
valued  contributors.  It  was  Mr.  Norton  who  penned 
the  note  of  congratulation  which  I  feel  constrained 
143 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

to  gloss  with  due  remembrance  of  the  makers  of 
the  tradition  which  it  has  been  my  privilege  more  or 
less  independently  for  the  past  twenty-four  years  to 
uphold. 

Long  before  the  Nation  had  attained  its  majority, 
it  had  an  entity  identifiable  with  no  one  man.  It 
drew  its  intellectual  and  moral  support  from  a  great 
body  of  enlightened  and  humane  men  and  women, 
who  became  the  Nation  incarnate.  I  believe  I  can 
confidently  appeal  to  the  experience  of  subscribers 
and  readers  —  readers  always  largely  in  excess  of 
subscribers  —  in  affirming  that  "  a  Nation  man  " 
stands  for  something  definite  in  the  social  order,  and 
that  the  paper  furnishes  a  trusty  bond  of  congeniality 
whenever  strangers  come  together  with  no  introduc 
tion.  This  is  a  cheering  thought  for  the  Editor,  but 
it  should  not  lead  him  to  confound  his  office  of  inter 
mediary  with  the  constitution  of  the  real  Nation. 

The  dedicatory  inscription  on  the  vase  presented 
to  me  was  written  by  Goldwin  Smith,  and  speaks  of 
the  services  rendered  to  my  country  by  "  forty  years 
of  able,  upright,  and  truly  patriotic  work  in  the  editor 
ship  of  the  Nation."  Such  a  certificate  from  such  a 
source  is  honorable  indeed,  and  I  can  candidly  pro 
fess  to  have  been  animated  by  patriotic  motives  in 
every  line  I  have  ever  written  for  this  journal.  These 
motives  I  was  born  to,  and  they  proceed  from  that 
larger  outlook  which  my  father  (whose  term  of  edi- 
144 


OF  THE  NATION 

torial  labor  I  have  now  just  equalled)  expressed  in 
his  Liberator  motto,  "  My  Country  is  the  World,  My 
Countrymen  are  all  Mankind."  They  imply  not  only 
freedom  from  provincial  narrowness  in  human  sym 
pathy,  but  a  right  of  clear  vision  and  independent 
criticism  of  one's  own  people,  one's  own  government. 
I  could  ask  nothing  more  than  to  be  found  to  have 
derived  also  from  my  father  the  concomitants  of  his 
patriotism,  "the  modest  spirit,  the  forthright  and 
indomitable  temper,  heat,  and  the  strong  spurning 
of  the  vile,  and  the  untrammelled  word." 

It  does  not  enter  into  my  purpose  to  review  the 
fortunes  of  the  Nation  in  its  four  decades,  nor  to  dis 
cuss  its  still  relative  isolation  among  independent 
presses.  It  would  but  mar  a  festive  occasion  to  con 
trast  the  high,  all-embracing  philanthropy  to  which 
the  country  seemed  dedicated  on  coming  out  of  the 
Civil  War — Lincoln's  Gettysburg  speech  still  ringing 
in  our  ears  —  with  our  present  state  of  shattered  re 
publican  ideals,  our  tyrannous  subjection  of  "  infe 
rior"  peoples,  our  all-prevalent  militarism.  Then, 
our  American  reliance  was  on  the  force  of  example, 
such  as  Coleridge,  not  yet  disillusioned,  anticipated 
from  the  French  Revolution  — 

"  And,  conquering  by  her  happiness  alone, 
Shall  France  compel  the  nations  to  be  free." 

Now,  we  have  come  down  to  compelling  them  to  pay 

their  debts  and  the  usurious  interest  of  revolutionary 

145 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

speculators,  to  govern  themselves  in  accordance  with 
our  notions,  and  to  yield  the  vineyard  which  we 
covet. 

It  remains  to  thank  those  who  have  united  in  a 
little-called-for,  wholly  unexpected  tribute  of  personal 
esteem  and  affection,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart. 
So  long  as  strength  endures,  I  shall  endeavor  with 
their  aid  to  perpetuate  a  journal  which  has,  I  believe, 
no  exact  parallel  in  any  other  country,  and  whose 
service  has  ever  been  a  service  of  love.  It  is  mine,  I 
repeat,  only  in  name. 

WENDELL  PHILLIPS  GARRISON. 


CONGRATULATORY   LETTERS 

July  19,  1905. 

MY  DEAR  GARRISON,  —  I  never  signed  any  paper 
with  more  satisfaction  than  the  address  to  you ;  and 
don't  think  any  such  document  ever  expressed  more 
faithfully  the  real  feelings  of  those  who  signed  it.  It 
is  a  further  pleasure  to  know  that  the  secret  was  so 
well  kept  to  the  last.  For  myself,  may  I  again  say  that 
it  is  to  me  a  most  remarkable  thing  that  you  have 
been  able  for  so  many  years  to  keep  the  literary  side 
of  the  Nation  at  so  exceptionally  high  a  level.  I 
doubt  if  there  be  any  organ  in  England,  or  indeed 
perhaps  in  Continental  Europe,  whose  reviews  have 
been  of  such  uniformly  high  excellence,  and  whose 
"note"  department  has  been  so  interesting  and 
helpful.  Always  yours, 

JAMES  BRYCE. 

OXFORD,  July  25,  1905. 

MY  DEAR  GARRISON,  —  I  was  extremely  pleased 
to  receive  the  account  of  the  present  to  you  as  a 
memorial  of  your  forty  years'  labour  for  the  Nation. 
I  was  the  more  pleased  as  I  noted  in  your  reply  to  the 
address  the  expression  of  what  I  hope  to  be  a  reso 
lution  on  your  part  to  carry  on  your  work  for  the 
147 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

present.  I  think  you  are  younger  and  certainly  not 
older  than  I,  and  my  strong  wish  is  that  you  may  at 
any  rate  last  my  time.  ...  I  am  sure  it  is  best  for 
the  Nation. 

I  was  told  by  a  friend  that  you  had  been  working 
for  the  Nation  for  now  forty  years.  I  most  sincerely 
wish  that  my  own  work  for  the  same  time  had  been 
anything  like  as  important  and  beneficent.  I  have 
often  disagreed  with  particular  opinions  maintained 
in  the  Nation,  but  I  have  never  had  the  least  doubt 
that  under  your  and  Mr.  Godkin's  guidance,  it  has 
done  better  work  for  the  world  than  any  other  news 
paper  with  which  I  am  acquainted  except  indeed 
your  father's  Liberator.  It  saddens  me  to  think  that 
Godkin  will  never  be  able  to  read  my  Law  and 
Opinion.  I  think  he  would  have  sympathized  with 
much  of  it. 

What  a  lot  of  life  there  was  in  him! 
Yours  sincerely, 

A.  V.  DICEY. 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,  July  5,  1905. 

HONORED  AND  DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  cannot  let  this 
occasion  go  by  without  sending  you  from  your  native 
place  a  word  of  congratulation,  of  thankfulness,  and 
of  God-speed.  I  have  had  some  good  teachers,  men 
of  distinction  in  the  world  of  science  or  letters ;  but  I 
often  wonder  whether  I  owe  more  to  any  of  them  — 
148 


OF  THE  NATION 

apart  from  purely  technical  reasons  —  than  I  do  to 
the  modest  and  quiet  and  faithful  man  who  has  been 
my  teacher  for  really  more  than  a  generation,  and 
who  —  through  an  instrumentality  that  lays  more 
weight  on  the  thing  done  than  on  the  personality  that 
does  it  —  has  taught,  besides,  a  multitude  of  the  men 
who  are  the  leaders  of  men  in  our  beloved  country.  I 
shall  send  you  ere  long  in  print  a  page  or  two  on 
"  Human  Personality  and  the  Progress  of  Science." 
What  I  say  there  is  equally  pertinent  to  you  and  to 
your  life-work,  and  I  feel  sure  that  you  will  send  me 
a  sympathetic  word  in  return,  for  I  know  it  is  what 
you  have  deeply  felt,  because  you  have  lived  it  in 
your  life.  The  supreme  satisfaction  in  life  is  —  I 
suspect  —  after  all,  the  consciousness  that  one  has 
served  his  day  and  generation  (as  dear  old  President 
Woolsey  preached  to  us  on  our  Baccalaureate  of 
thirty-four  years  ago).  This  satisfaction  is  yours,  if 
any  one  may  feel  entitled  to  it ;  and  so  I  want  to  re 
joice  with  you,  dear  Mr.  Garrison,  because  you  have 
given  us  loyal,  unvarying  public  service,  and  because 
that  service  has  been  fruitful  for  good  in  many  thou 
sand  ways  which  neither  you  nor  I  can  ever  know, 
but  yet  aboundingly  and  certainly  fruitful. 

It  has  been  nothing  less  than  a  grief  to  me  that  I 
have  been  able  to  do  almost  nothing  by  way  of  con 
tribution  to  the  columns  of  the  Nation  lately.    When 
you  see  Volume  IX  of  the  Oriental  Series  (which  goes 
149 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

on  to  the  press  this  week)  and  the  list  of  ten  volumes 
practically  done  and  of  ten  or  twelve  more  in  an 
encouraging  state  of  advancement,  you  will  easily  see 
why.  But  it  is  no  small  part  of  the  attractiveness  of 
the  honorable  position  of  being  a  contributor  to  the 
Nation  that  it  gives  one  an  opportunity  to  know  you 
a  little  at  closer  range,  and  occasionally  to  see  your 
familiar  hand  which  seems  neither  to  change  nor  to 
age. 

From  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  I  wish  you  health 
and  strength  for  continued  work,  and  joy  in  your 
work  which,  I  am  sure,  is  a  wonderful  means  to  sus 
tain  and  give  endurance  to  a  man  that  is  trying  to  do 
his  share.  God  bless  you,  worthy  son  of  a  man  whose 
statue  on  our  Commonwealth  Avenue  I  never  pass 
but  with  bared  head,  and  be  assured  of  the  abiding 
regard  and  affection  of  your  sincere  friend, 

CHARLES  R.  LANMAN. 

LAWRENCE,  KANSAS,  July  21,  1905. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  GARRISON,  —  I  must  not  fail  to 
send  my  sincere  and  hearty  congratulations  to  you  on 
the  completion  of  your  forty  years  of  distinguished 
service  as  editor  of  the  Nation.  As  I  think  of  what 
has  happened  in  that  long  period,  your  work  seems 
to  me  to  have  been  of  inestimable  value.  In  your  en 
tire  independence  of  thought,  your  insistence  upon 
the  highest  critical  ideals,  your  sympathy  with  all 

150 


OF  THE  NATION 

good  causes,  your  well-nigh  unerring  discrimination 
of  truth  from  falsehood,  and  your  unfailingly  pure 
and  vigorous  English  style,  you  have  been  the  strong 
encouragement  of  all  of  us  who,  in  our  various  ways, 
have  ourselves  sought  to  be  true  to  those  ideals.  My 
own  sense  of  personal  obligation  to  you  is  very  great. 
For  ten  years  you  have  given  me  unfettered  opportu 
nity  to  say  what  I  thought  ought  to  be  said,  at  the 
same  time  that  you  have  surrounded  all  that  I  did 
with  your  kindly  criticism  and,  best  of  all,  personal 
friendship.  I  cannot  separate,  therefore,  my  con 
gratulations  from  my  affectionate  regards,  and  I  beg 
you  to  accept  them  both. 

Yours  sincerely, 

WILLIAM  MCDONALD. 

PoNT-AvEN,  BRITTANY,  July  28,  1905. 

MY  DEAR  WENDELL,  —  My  Nation  of  July  13th, 
coming  to  me  via  my  son,  to  whom  it  is  sent  first,  has 
just  reached  me  here,  and  I  cannot,  though  it  is  late, 
consent  to  be  wholly  out  of  the  tribute  of  congratu 
lation  on  your  two-score  years  of  faithful  and  fruitful 
service  of  our  people  and  of  all  mankind,  through  an 
instrument  which  you  have  done  so  much  to  make  — 
as  you  justly  estimate  that  the  Nation  has  been  — 
unique  in  its  kind.  I  wras  going  to  write,  with  the 
impulse  not  to  overstate  that  comes  with  the  habit 
of  writing,  "  almost "  unique.  But  I  think  the  adverb 
151 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

would  be  out  of  place  and  an  injustice.  In  its  two 
fold  character  of  a  political  and  social  monitor,  and  a 
literary  and  artistic  guide,  it  has  no  counterpart  that 
I  know  of.  I  have  often  said  that,  in  the  latter  ca 
pacity,  it  is  better  than  either  of  the  English  weeklies, 
and  in  the  former,  no  paper,  certainly,  has,  during 
your  long  period,  been  quite  so  true  and  unwavering 
and  perspicacious.  I  honor  the  course  and  steadfast 
attitude  of  the  Nation  beyond  words.  Personally,  it 
has  been  to  me  so  serviceable  as  a  guide  in  thinking, 
as  a  help  in  formulating  my  opinions,  and  as  a  literary 
companion  of  educators,  that  I  cannot  think  what  I 
should  have  done  or  been  without  it.  John  Ropes 
made  me  a  subscriber  to  the  first  number,  I  believe, 
and  continued  that  kindness  till  his  lamented  and  too 
early  death.  And  it  is  as  much  my  habit  to  go  through 
it,  and  read  the  most  of  it,  as  it  has  been  yours,  almost 
to  look  over  your  copy  of  the  proofs.  I  hope  that 
when  I  was  still  preaching  I  discharged  part  of  my 
great  debt  to  it  through  the  infiltration  of  its  illumi 
nating  thought  into  my  feeble  discourses.  I  feel  as  if 
I  could  speak,  and  were  speaking,  for  J.  C.  R.,  who, 
as  you  know,  thought  so  much  with  you  and  val 
ued  the  Nation  so  much  in  both  its  functions.  He 
used  always  to  read  it  thoroughly,  often  he  passed 
it  to  his  faithful  valet,  who  was  quite  educated  by 
it  and  became  a  good  independent  and  radical  in 
politics. 

152 


OF  THE  NATION 

Well,  the  tribute  you  have  read  was  altogether 
just  and  meet  and  timely,  and  it  would  have  been  a 
bad  omission  if,  at  such  an  epoch,  you  had  not  heard 
from  your  friends  a  little  of  all  they  think  of  you  and 
your  life-work.  But  your  great  reward  is  in  your  con 
sciousness  of  lifelong  fidelity  and  service,  and  I  hope 
you  permit  yourself  to  enjoy  it.  The  best  function  of 
the  beautiful  vase  shall  be  to  remind  you  to  think 
well  of  yourself  and  your  function.  May  great  content 
and  peace  be  reflected  upon  your  heart  whenever  you 
look  upon  it. 

I  have  always  been  most  happy  that  your  father's 
sons  have,  in  their  spirit  and  attitude  and  actual 
work,  been  so  true  to  the  tradition  of  his  wonderful 
life  and  character.  Now,  you  have  duplicated  his 
service  in  an  almost  more  difficult  field.  At  least  he 
had  the  advantage  of  an  issue  so  clear-cut.  The 
Nation's  task  has,  from  that  point  of  view,  been  al 
most  more  difficult  than  that  of  the  Liberator.  I  was 
glad  of  your  allusion  to  him  and  It  (I  made  that  capi 
tal  by  accident,  but  I  am  glad  I  did !)  —  you  could 
not  have  repressed  it,  and  it  is  very  pleasing  and 
suggestive.  Something  in  the  style  of  your  remarks 
on  this  occasion  reminds  me  of  his.  You  have  been 
par  nobile,  father  and  son. 

With  affectionate  regard  and  warmest  congratula 
tions,  always  cordially  your  friend, 

JOSEPH  MAY. 
153 


THE   FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

HOBART  COLLEGE,  GENEVA,  N.  Y., 
July  3,  1905. 

DEAR  MR.  GARRISON,  —  Permitted  through  M.'s 
friendship  to  know  the  details  of  the  surprise  planned 
for  you  on  your  anniversary,  I  heartily  congratulate 
you  on  the  enthusiastic  and  eager  responses  which 
the  suggestion  of  that  plan  has  elicited  from  your 
contributors.  Your  case  seems  to  me  quite  sui  gene 
ris.  This  unanimous  and  hearty  approval  proceeds 
from  a  highly  cultured  and  intellectual  body  of  men 
accustomed  to  think  for  themselves  —  a  body  in 
cluding  not  a  few  men  of  the  very  first  order  of 
attainments.  It  is  not  the  fruit  and  expression  of 
political  excitement,  of  religious  fanaticism ;  but  is 
based  on  a  calm  and  almost  judicial  appreciation  of 
your  character  as  your  fellow- workers  see  it.  But, 
further,  I  am  sure  that  an  equally  honorable  expression 
of  esteem  and  respect  could  be  called  forth  from  the 
larger  number  of  those  "  intellectuals  "  whom  politi 
cal  ties,  the  Amour  du  clochcr,  an  extreme  conserv 
atism,  or  some  other  reason  has  debarred  from  any 
connection  with  the  Nation. 

And  this  appreciation  of  your  character  and  your 
services  is  not  expressed  by  all  with  perfect  freedom. 
Of  your  contributors  many  will  not  say  to  your  face 
the  good  they  will  say  of  you  behind  your  back.  Not 
a  few  of  those  whose  letters  are  now  sent  to  you  for 
your  perusal  would  have  been  less  outspoken  if  they 
154 


OF  THE  NATION 

had  been  writing  to  you  directly.  To  be  entirely  free 
from  all  such  constraint  one  has  to  feel  sure  that 
the  personal  friendship  is  quite  independent  of  any 
relations  of  a  business  nature. 

In  spite  of  all  this  restraint,  it  clearly  appears 
that  you  are  loved  and  honored  in  equal  measure. 
To  call  this  a  mystery  is  a  mere  phrase.  You  are 
loved  because  you  love.  No  man  is  ever  loved  by 
other  men  on  any  other  terms ;  though,  on  his  part, 
the  love  may  be  less  personal  and  individual  than 
what  he  receives  in  return.  I  am  sure  that  every 
one  of  your  contributors  has  had  occasion  to  feel 
that  you  were  more  sensitive  for  him  than  he  for 
himself  —  "Pensoso  piu  d'  altrui  che  di  se  stesso."  I 
do  not  know  what  I  would  not  give  to  be  loved  in 
this  way;  and  if  envy  could  exist  between  friends,  I 
should  envy  you  desperately.  Now  I  congratulate 
you  with  all  my  heart;  and  I  am  glad  and  proud 
that  I  can  call  myself  your  friend. 

FRANCIS  PHILIP  NASH. 

ASHFIELD,  MASS.,  July  13,  1905. 

DEAR  MR.  GARRISON,  —  The  feelings  which  you 
express  in  your  frank  and  cordial  letter  seem  to  me 
altogether  natural,  and  quicken  responsive  sympathy 
in  my  heart.  I  know  well  the  trial  of  publicity,  and 
the  mingled  pain  and  pleasure  in  the  public  expres- 


155 


THE   FORTIETH   ANNIVERSARY 

sion  of  private  regard,  especially  by  means  of  a  formal 
testimonial. 

In  truth,  I  hate  these  ante-mortem  obituaries. 
But,  looking  only  at  the  pleasant  side  of  this  testi 
monial  to  you,  I  trust  that  the  affection  and  confi 
dence  manifest  in  it  may  prove  tonic  and  invigorating, 
and  enable  you  to  go  on  with  your  work  with  a  cheer 
ful  spirit,  till  Nature,  with  quick  and  kind  decision, 
bids  you  rest. 

You  and  I  have  much  in  common  to  be  thankful 
for.    Godkin  forms  a  close  bond  between  us. 
With  affectionate  regards, 

Ever  yours, 

C.  E.  NORTON. 

MILFORD,  PA.,  May  29,  1905. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  I  remark  that  the  note  does  not 
touch  upon  the  truly  extraordinary  skill  that  Garri 
son  shows  in  conducting  the  journal.  However  little 
acquaintance  he  may  have  with  a  subject,  his  flair 
is  such  that  before  he  sends  out  a  book  he  knows 
pretty  accurately  what  its  value  is.  His  "gracious- 
ness,"  for  which  we  all  feel,  as  we  ought,  so  warmly  to 
him,  ought  besides  to  command  respect  as  an  essen 
tial  element  of  his  ability  to  gather  and  keep  such 
contributors  as  he  does.  Every  head  of  a  works,  to 
ensure  his  success,  must  have  a  genuine  sympathy 
with  his  workmen;  but  there  is  no  other  class  so 
156 


OF  THE   NATION 

difficult  to  deal  with  as  those  who  are  skillful  with 
the  pen.  The  immense  influence  of  the  Nation,  far 
beyond  its  subscription  list,  has  been  exercised  with 
amazing  sagacity  and  directed  to  the  best  ends. 

CHARLES  S.  PEIRCE. 

LONDON,  July  23,  1905. 

DEAR  MR.  GARRISON,  —  I  have  just  received  my 
Nation  for  July  13th,  and  I  hope  you  will  let  me  add 
a  little  personal  note  to  the  mere  formal  letter  of  con 
gratulations.  For  I  should  like  you  to  know  how 
much  —  all  the  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  I  have 
been  working  for  you  —  I  have  appreciated  the  plea 
sure  and  privilege  of  being  a  contributor  to  the  Na- 
tion.  I  think  I  can  appreciate  it  all  the  more,  because 
I  have  felt  the  difference  between  the  liberal  editor 
ship  of  the  Nation  and  the  narrower  justice  of  some 
newspaper  editors  for  whom  I  have  worked.  It  has 
seemed  to  me  that  you  always  have  realized  that  one 
has  written  because  one  has  had  something  to  say  in 
which  one  believed,  which  one  thought  needed  say 
ing  —  and  so  you  have  given  one  the  opportunity  to 
speak  out  honestly  that  is  to  be  had  in  so  few,  so  for 
lornly  few,  papers  anywhere.  And  may  I  say  that  I 
feel,  too,  what  Mr.  Norton  has  so  well  written  for  us 
all  —  the  kindness  with  which  you  make  friends  of 
your  contributors,  even  one  who,  like  myself,  has 
never  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you.  From  begin- 
157 


THE   FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

ning  to  end,  my  connection  with  the  Nation  has 
been  the  very  best  thing  that  long  years  of  journalism 
have  brought  me,  and  this  I  owe  to  you  entirely.  For, 
as  I  like  to  remind  you  now,  and  as  you  may  remem 
ber,  I  came  to  you  without  any  introduction  or  recom 
mendation,  so  that  my  connection  with  the  paper  is 
due  solely  and  entirely  to  your  kind  approval  of  the 
first  articles  I  ever  sent  you. 

It  may  amuse  you  to  hear,  just  at  this  moment, 
that  during  the  last  month,  while  going  over  some  old 
papers  of  my  uncle's  (Charles  G.  Leland,  whose 
Life  I  am  writing),  I  came  across  a  number  of  letters 
from  Charles  Astor  Bristed,  and  that  in  some  of  these 
for  1866  I  found  the  Nation  already  praised  —  as  it 
has  been  ever  since  —  for  its  liberality  and  its  high 
standard  —  for  "the  chance  to  place  writing  which 
no  other  paper  would  accept  (probably),  or  appre 
ciate  (certainly) :  I  mean  first-class  criticism  on  liter 
ary  and  social  topics."  I  was  glad  to  see  Bristed's 
name  among  those  of  the  early  contributors. 

Mr.  Pennell  joins  with  me  in  sending  you  congratu 
lations  and  assurance  of  appreciation  of  all  and  every 
thing  you  have  made  of  the  Nation. 
Believe  me, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

ELIZABETH  R.  PENNELL. 


158 


OF  THE  NATION 

RAVENSCLEFT,  SEAL  HARBOB,  MAINE, 
July  15,  1905. 

DEAR  MR.  GARRISON,  —  I  was  glad  to  get  your 
kind  personal  word  to  me  and  to  read  your  noble  let 
ter  in  the  Nation  of  Thursday.  From  two  expres 
sions  of  yours,  one  in  an  earlier  letter  of  this  year  and 
the  other  when  we  talked  together  at  the  Massachu 
setts  Historical  Society,  I  was  reminded  of  what  a 
toilsome  work  yours  had  been.  I  knew  it  well  enough 
before,  as  my  easy  reading  of  the  Nation  since  1886 
had  only  been  achieved  by  hard  writing  and  editorial 
work.  Yet  it  was  a  bit  more  effective  to  hear  the  per 
sonal  note. 

During  the  last  two  years  I  have  been  going  over 
in  my  historical  work  the  Nation  from  1866  to  1872, 
and  I  marvel  how  well  it  stands  the  test  of  re-reading 
and  of  examination  in  the  light  of  history.  It  also  re 
news  my  sense  of  indebtedness  to  the  journal  for  its 
guidance  on  the  question  of  Civil  Service  and  Tariff 
Reform  and  of  Finance.  You  and  your  associates 
may  well  congratulate  yourselves  on  the  results  of 
your  work  in  the  advocacy  of  Civil  Service  reform  and 
of  Sound  Finance.  As  to  the  Tariff,  we  have  gone 
backward  (in  my  judgment)  since  1870-72. 

I  think  I  have  told  you  before  how  I  am  at  times 

distracted  from  my  political  reading  by  glancing  at 

some  attractive  book  review,  and  I  find  the  same  care 

and  knowledge  displayed  then  as  now.    Your  book 

159 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

reviews  make  a  body  of  literature  of  which  any  one 
may  be  proud.  All  of  us  who  are  devoted  to  study, 
literature,  and  the  philosophy  of  politics  are  much 
indebted  to  you  and  Mr.  Godkin.  I  rejoice  that  Mr. 
Norton  and  Dr.  Thayer  thought  of  so  happy  a  method 
of  expressing  our  sense  of  obligation. 

I  am  touched  by  your  expression  of  personal  friend 
ship,  which  I  reciprocate  cordially. 
With  kind  regards,  I  am 
Very  truly  yours, 

JAMES  FORD  RHODES. 

MAGNOLIA,  MASS.,  July  5,  1905. 

DEAR  MR.  GARRISON,  —  Very  hearty  congratula 
tions  to  you  on  the  completion  of  your  forty  years  on 
the  Nation  —  a  Forty  Years'  War,  if  ever  there  was 
one.  Such  a  warfare  as  you  have  waged  in  behalf  of 
high  ideals  and  wholesome  methods  has  had  no  par 
allel  in  this  country,  where  the  Nation  stands  as  the 
great  example  of  what  journalism  can  and  should  be. 

You  cannot  measure  the  breadth  of  its  influence, 
nor  of  your  own,  on  the  scores  of  contributors  whom 
you  have  guided  during  all  these  years.  It  is  particu 
larly  for  this  friendly  guidance,  this  welcome  to  vari 
ous  opinions  provided  they  be  worthy,  that  I  feel 
grateful.  Long  ago  I  found  that  in  you  behind  the 
editor  is  the  friend,  and  this  friendship  has  been  one 
of  my  most  precious  possessions. 
160 


OF  THE   NATION 

Long  may  you  stand  in  your  place  with  vigor  un- 
diminished. 

Ever  faithfully  yours, 

WILLIAM  R.  THAYER. 

SHELMALIERE,  ORWELL  PARK,  RATHGAR, 
DUBLIN,  July  28,  1905. 

MY  DEAR  WENDELL,  —  A  notice  in  the  last  Nation 
and  a  letter  from  Frank  from  the  Continent  tell  of 
the  address  to  you  on  the  fortieth  anniversary  of  the 
establishment  of  the  Nation  and  of  your  taking  up 
the  Editorship.  Dear !  —  how  my  father  delighted 
in  the  paper,  and  how  carefully  he  preserved  the  pile 
of  these  up  to  the  time  of  his  illness  —  which  pile  we 
sent  to  some  one  whose  name  I  forget,  through  your 
family. 

And  what  a  moderating  influence  for  good  it  has 
been  on  my  own  life  all  through !  Convictions  early 
drove  me  into  a  stormy  sea  of  Irish  political  passions 
and  politics.  They  have  tended  to  isolate  me  from 
others  of  my  own  class.  It  is  mainly  due  to  the  Nation 
the  degree  to  which  I  have  been  able  to  keep  my  hold 
upon  general  and  world-wide  principles  of  justice 
and  light.  And  it  has  been  the  deepest  literary  satis 
faction  of  my  life  that  you  have  considered  so  many 
of  my  communications  worthy  of  a  place  in  the 
columns  of  the  Nation. 

Were  it  possible  to  communicate  with  my  father's 
161 


THE  FORTIETH  ANNIVERSARY 

spirit,  and  were  I  allowed  but  one  message,  the  one 
I  would  be  most  likely  to  send  as  giving  him  most 
satisfaction  would  be  my  twenty  years'  connection 
with  your  paper. 

With  best  regards,  in  which  my  wife  would  join 
were  she  in  as  I  write,  and  affectionately, 

ALFRED  WEBB. 


On  Mr.  Garrison's  retirement  from  the  Nation  a  year 
later  (June  28,  1906),  the  following  letters  passed  between 
him  and  an  Italian  subscriber  of  long  standing:  — 

MILAN,  25th  July,  1906. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Allow  me,  a  constant  reader  of  the 
Nation  for  the  last  thirty  years,  to  wish  you  all 
ease  and  happiness  in  your  well-deserved  retreat. 
And  I  do  so  the  more  as,  being  an  Italian,  I  cannot 
forget  the  fair  way  my  country  has  been  always 
treated  in  your  admirably  edited  paper. 
Believe  me,  Dear  Sir,  yours  truly, 

C.  Gross ANI. 

August  7,  1906. 
To  SIGNOR  C.  GIUSSANI,  Milano. 

Dear  Sir,  —  Your  good  wishes  find  me  absent  from 
home  in  search  of  bodily  recuperation,  and,  I  am 
happy  to  add,  already  much  improved  in  tone.  I  am 
162 


OF  THE  NATION 

also,  being  on  the  New  England  coast,  somewhat 
nearer  to  the  Italy  from  which  you  write,  and  concern 
ing  whose  treatment  in  the  Nation  you  kindly  speak 
in  praise. 

Finally,  it  happens  that  the  only  books  I  brought 
with  me  were  Carducci's  "  Poesie  "  and  a  fragment  of 
Dante,  when  I  much  doubted  having  strength  to  read 
anything. 

All  this  prepared  me  for  a  higher  gratification  on 
receipt  of  your  friendly  message,  for  which  I  thank 
you  in  all  sincerity.  It  is  a  great  joy  to  work  with  such 
collaborators  as  I  have  had  for  forty  years ;  but  on  the 
other  hand  it  is  no  small  privation  not  to  know  any 
but  the  least  portion  of  one's  readers,  or  to  have  any 
sure  indication  of  influence  exerted  —  and  upon  what 
class  of  minds.  It  is  a  real  favor  to  have  you  stand  out 
from  the  mass  and  extend  a  hand  in  sympathetic  fare 
well.  In  doing  so  you  are  one  of  a  small  number, 
though  many  have  no  doubt  felt  but  kept  silent. 

It  is  twenty-two  years  since  I  looked  up  from  the 
railroad  station  at  Milan  towards  your  beautiful  and 
renowned  city.  That  I  shall  ever  be  as  near  it  again 
seems  very  doubtful  at  my  age  and  with  my  disincli 
nation  to  travel.  I  may  therefore  never  be  able  to  say 
to  you  in  person  what  these  few  lines  are  intended  to 
express. 

Believe  me  very  gratefully  and  respectfully  yours, 
WENDELL  P.  GARRISON. 
163 


FAREWELL  LETTER  TO  CONTRIBUTORS 

June  28,  1906. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Announcement  is  made,  in  to-day's 
issue  of  the  Nation  (marking  the  close  of  the  forty- 
first  year  of  my  connection  with  that  journal),  of  my 
definitive  resignation  of  the  editorial  control.  My 
relations  to  it  hereafter,  if  any,  must  be  only  casual 
and  contributory.  In  any  event,  I  am,  by  the  neces 
sities  of  my  health,  suddenly  deprived  of  that  humane 
intercourse,  intermittent  in  individual  instances,  con 
stant  in  the  mass,  with  my  staff  acquaintance  which 
has  been  the  joy  of  my  profession  for  more  than  a 
generation.  To  their  support  I  owe  too  much  to  be 
satisfied  with  a  public  advertisement  of  the  breach  I 
must  to  the  end  of  my  days  deplore.  Permit  me, 
then,  to  repeat  privately  to  each  —  to  you  nominatim 
—  words  of  grateful  farewell,  and  to  express  the  hope 
that  the  proverbial  smallness  of  the  world  will  fur 
nish,  here  and  there  at  least,  an  occasion  for  future 
greeting,  with  cheerful  memories  and  unabated 
mutual  esteem. 

Respectfully  and  cordially  yours, 

WENDELL  PHILLIPS  GARRISON. 

LLEWELLYN  PARK, 
ORANGE,  NEW  JERSEY. 


POEMS 


THE  VISION  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

DREAMING,  he  woke,  our  martyr  President, 
And  still  the  vision  lingered  in  his  mind 
(Problem  at  once  and  prophecy  combined), 

A  flying  bark  with  all  her  canvas  bent : 

Joy-bringing  herald  of  some  great  event 

Oft  when  the  wavering  scale  of  war  inclined 
To  Freedom's  side;  now  how  to  be  divined 

Uncertain,  since  Rebellion's  force  was  spent. 

So,  of  the  omen  heedful,  as  of  Fate, 

Lincoln  with  curious  eye  the  horizon  scanned: 

At  morn,  with  hopes  of  port  and  peace  elate; 
At  night,  like  Palinurus  —  in  his  hand 

The  broken  tiller  of  the  Ship  of  State  — - 

Flung  on  the  margin  of  the  Promised  Land. 


At  the  cabinet  meeting  held  the  morning  of  the  assassination  .  .  . 
General  Grant  was  present,  and  during  a  lull  in  the  conversation  the 
President  turned  to  him  and  asked  if  he  had  heard  from  General  Sher 
man.  General  Grant  replied  that  he  had  not,  but  was  in  hourly  expec 
tation  of  receiving  dispatches  from  him  announcing  the  surrender  of 
Johnston.  "Well,"  said  the  President,  "you  will  hear  very  soon  now, 
and  the  news  will  be  important.  ...  I  had  a  dream  last  night,  and 
ever  since  the  war  began  I  have  invariably  had  the  same  dream  before 
any  important  military  event  occurred.  ...  It  is  in  your  line,  too,  Mr. 
Welles.  The  dream  is  that  I  saw  a  ship  sailing  very  rapidly."  — F.  B. 
Carpenter,  Six  Months  at  the  White  House. 

Oh,  think  how,  to  his  latest  day. 

When  death,  just  hovering,  claimed  his  prey. 

With  Palinure's  unaltered  mood 

Firm  at  his  dangerous  post  he  stood; 

Each  call  for  needful  rest  repelled, 

With  dying  hands  the  rudder  held, 

Till,  in  his  fall,  with  fateful  sway, 

The  steerage  of  the  realm  gave  way! 

Scott,  Introduction  to  Marmion. 

167 


ON   THE   TWENTY-FIFTH   REUNION    OF   MY 
CLASS 

WE  have  survived !  —  As  face  looks  into  face, 

And  hand  grasps  hand  with  gladness  and  surprise, 

And  warm  the  greeting  is,  and  long  the  embrace, 
This  thought  in  all  above  all  must  arise  — 
We  have  survived! 

We  have  survived :  yet  this  contracted  board 
Needs  must  we  liken  to  the  narrowing  cell 

Of  that  doomed  prisoner  through  whose  window  poured 
Daily  less  sunlight  from  out  Heaven's  well : 
We  have  survived ! 

We  have  survived :  as  some  pale  berg  drifts  on 
To  tepid  seas,  with  bowed  and  humbled  crest, 

And  feels  its  members,  loosening  one  by  one, 
Drop  and  melt  silently  —  and  knows  the  rest : 
We  have  survived. 

We  have  survived :  but  whether  have  endured 
Youth's  bold  ideals,  the  glorious  hopes  of  Youth; 

Whether  is  Honor  radiant  or  obscured, 

Who  knows  ?  or  whether  in  the  love  of  Truth 
WTe  have  survived  ? 

We  have  survived;  and  let  it  not  be  said 

That  they  whom  here  we  miss,  nor  more  shall  see, 
168 


TWENTY-FIFTH   REUNION   OF   MY    CLASS 

The  early-taken,  the  heroic  dead  — 

That  these  our  brothers,  rather,  have  lived,  while  we, 
We  have  —  survived. 


J'ai  ve'cu.  —  Abbd  Sieyes. 

"Ilz  ont  vescu."  Ce  qui  est  une  facon  de  parler,  dont  usent  quelquefois 
lea  Remains,  quand  ilz  veulent  (5viter  la  durete'  de  ceste  rude  parole  de 
dire  il  est  inort.  —  Amyot's  Plutarch. 

169 


FORWARD ! 

SHELVED,  do  they  say  ?    'T  is  but  a  chapter  closed 

When  Nature's  warning  finger  interposed. 

What  then  ?  That  way  is  barred,  yet  life  remains ; 

In  other  fields  the  leave  to  strive  obtains. 

I  quit  the  Past  the  Future  to  control; 

My  monuments  behind,  in  front  my  goal. 


No,  non  son  morto.   Dietro  me  cadavere 
Lasciai  la  prima  vita. 

Carducci,  Prologue  to  Giambi  ed  Epodi. 

170 


LARGESS 

.  .  .  "PooR  thing,  art  cold!  " 
I  heard  it  murmur  to  the  freezing  Earth, 
Our  royal  Maple  in  its  robes  of  gold; 
And  of  a  sudden  in  the  shivery  air 
Of  autumn,  than  Godiva's  self  more  bare, 
And,  like  that  lady  in  her  utter  dearth 
Of  raiment,  chastely  clad  in  charity, 
There  for  a  wonder  stood  the  leafless  Tree, 
A  coil  of  yellow  sunshine  at  its  base, 
Dropt  as  a  mantle  on  the  stark  Earth's  face. 


171 


WHAT  day  my  love  passed  on,  around  her  pressed, 

With  wonder  filled  and  gentle  sympathy, 

The  elect  of  angels  and  the  souls  that  be 
The  populace  of  heaven  and  therefore  blest. 
"What  Light  is  this?"  thus  they  themselves  addressed, 

"And  what  new  beauty?  Form  so  gloriously 

Attired  ne'er  in  this  base  century 
From  vagrom  earth  gained  this  high  place  of  rest." 
But  she,  with  her  changed  hostelry  content, 

And  peer  of  the  most  perfect,  as  it  were 
Expectant  turns  anon,  with  glances  sent 

Backwards  to  see  if  I  do  follow  her. 
Hence  all  my  thought  and  will  on  heaven  is  bent, 

Hearing  her  pray  I  be  no  loiterer. 


Gli  angeli  eletti  e  1'  anime  beate 
Cittadine  del  clelo,  il  prime  giorno 
Che  Madonna  pass6,  le  fur  intorno 
Piene  di  maraviglia  e  di  pietate. 

"Che  luce  e  questa,  e  qual  nova  beltate?" 
Dicean  tra  lor;  "perch"  abito  si  adorno 
Dal  mondo  errante  a  quest'  alto  soggiorno 
Non  sail  mai  in  tutta  questa  etate." 

Ella,  contenta  aver  cangiato  albergo, 
Si  paragona  pur  coi  piii  perfetti; 
E,  parte,  ad  or  ad  or  si  volge  a  tergo, 

Mirando  a'  io  la  seguo,  e  par  ch'  aspetti: 
Ond'  io  voglie  e  pensier  tutti  al  ciel  ergo ; 
Perch'  i'  1'  odo  pregar  pur  ch'  i'  m'  affretti. 

Petrarch,  Sonnets,  ccc. 

172 


SUPPLICATION 

I  GO  lamenting  that  in  vanished  days 

I  chose  to  love  a  perishable  thing, 

Nor  soared  aloft,  though  having  strength  of  wing 
Haply  to  no  mean  levels  me  to  raise. 
Thou  who  my  unmerited  lot  and  grievous  ways 

Seest,  unseen  and  deathless  Heavenly  King! 

Succor  a  frail  soul  in  its  wandering, 
And  of  Thy  grace  replenish  its  decays. 
That  so,  if  I  have  lived  in  storm  and  stress, 

I  die  in  port  and  peace;  and,  vain  my  stay, 
That  I  at  least  depart  with  comeliness. 

For  my  small  remnant  of  life  vouchsafe,  I  pray, 
Thy  hand  be  near,  and  when  I  die  not  less : 

Of  hope  in  others  Thou  knowest  I  have  no  ray. 


I*  vo  piangendo  i  miei  passati  tempi, 
I  quai  posi  in  amar  cosa  mortale, 
Senza  levarmi  a  volo,  abbiend'  io  I'  ale 
Per  dar  forse  di  me  non  bassi  esempi. 

Tu,  che  yedi  i  miei  mali  indegni  ed  empi, 
Re  del  cielo,  invisible,  immortale, 
Soccorri  a  1'  alma  disviata  e  frale, 
E  '1  suo  difetto  di  tua  grazia  adempi: 

SI  che,  s'  io  vissi  in  guerra  ed  in  tempesta, 
Mora  in  pace  ed  in  porto ;  e,  se  la  stanza 
Fu  vana,  almen  sia  la  partita  onesta. 

A  quel  poco  di  viver  che  m'  avanza 
Ed  al  morir  degni  esser  tua  man  presta : 
Tu  sai  ben  che  'n  altrui  non  ho  speranza. 

Petrarch,  Sonnets,  cccxvii. 

173 


PROTHALAMIUM 

How  should  we  greet  thee  on  thy  bridal  morn, 

This  morn,  that  with  extended  hands  cries  "Take, 
Receive,  accept!  "  ere  it  has  cried  "Awake!  " 

Surely  with  gifts  we  greet  thee :  first,  of  corn, 

For  fruitfulness,  along  with  Plenty's  horn; 

And  next,  a  Pan's-pipe  from  the  reedy  brake, 
For  concord;  lastly,  for  contentment's  sake, 

Of  herbs  a  handful  on  a  platter  borne. 

Thus  dowered,  and  advancing  with  the  day, 
Thy  front  all  radiant  and  thy  bosom  free, 

Oh  look  not  back!  nor  think,  "I  must  repay 
This  bounty  with  my  poor  virginity." 

Forward!  nor  heed  the  Voice  that  haunts  the  way: 
"This  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee!  " 


Ilia  perpetuum  nihil  audict,  nisi,  Mea  Lux;  ille  vicissim  nihil,  nisi, 
Anirne  mi.  — Erasmus,  Colloquia:  Epithalamium. 

Pro  epithalamio,  quod  postulant,  scripturus  epitaphium.  —  Erasmus, 
Colloquia:  Conjugium  Impar. 

Sed  interim  perit  virginitas.  — Erasmus,  Colloquia:  P:O"i  el  Puellat. 

174 


PRIMIPARA 

So  young  a  thing  to  feel  the  tightening  zone : 

And  is  her  burden  borne  by  wife  or  maid  ? 

What  Faust,  what  casket,  and  what  serenade 
Of  "Ring  on  Finger  "  of  the  Devil's  own, 
Have  fruited  thus  ?   Or  if  in  honor  sown 

Her  ripening  increase  beckons  to  the  blade, 

Oh  then  might  Juliet  from  her  balustrade 
Cast  envious  glances  at  her;  from  her  throne, 
The  love-sick  Dido;  from  her  casement  high, 

Hero,  for  her  Leander  blenched  with  doubt.  — 
Thus  the  poet  muses  as  she  passes  by 

Heedless  of  him  as  of  his  prayer  devout, 
Nor  marks  the  mood  of  pity  in  his  eye : 

Who  will  be  with  her  at  her  Crying-out  ? 


La  steril  Beatrice 

Ceda  a  te,  fior  d'  ogni  terrena  cosa. 

Carducci,  Le  Nozte. 

Jam  ut  maxime  jactes  mihi  virtutem  bellicam,  nemo  vestrum,  si 
semel  esset  cxpertus  quid  sit  parere,  non  mallet  decies  in  acie  stare  quam 
subire  semel  quod  nobis  toties  est  experiendum.  In  bello  non  semper 
venitur  ad  manus;  .  .  .  nobis  cominus  cum  morte  conflictandum  est. — 
Erasmus,  Colloquia :  Puerpera. 

175 


POST-MERIDIAN:   AFTERNOON 

WHEN  in  thy  glass  thou  studiest  thy  face, 

Not  long,  nor  yet  not  seldom,  half  repelled 
And  half  attracted;  when  thou  hast  beheld 

Of  Time's  slow  ravages  the  crumbling  trace, 

(Deciphered  now  with  many  an  interspace 

The  characters  ere  while  that  Beauty  spelled), 
And  in  thy  throat  a  choking  fear  hath  swelled 

Of  Love,  grown  cold,  eluding  thy  embrace: 

Could 'st  thou  but  read  my  gaze  of  tenderness  — 
Affection  fused  with  pity  —  precious  tears 

Would  bring  relief  to  thy  unjust  distress; 
Thy  visage,  even  as  it  to  me  appears, 

Would  seem  to  thee  transfigured;  thou  would'st  bless 
Me,  who  am  also,  Dearest,  scarred  with  years ! 


IA  mia  donna  fue  immediata  cagione  di  certe  parole  che  nel  sonetto 
sono,  si  come  appare  a  chi  lo  intends.  —  Dante,  Vita  Nuova,  vii. 

Maria.  —  Fortassis  alia  tibi  videbor  ubi  morbus  aut  aetas  bane  formam 
immutarit. 

Pamphilus.  —  Nee  hoc  corpus,  o  bona,  semper  erit  aeque  succulentum. 
Sed  ego  non  contemplor  tantum  istud  undique  florens  et  elegans  domi- 
cilium ;  hospitem  magis  adamo.  —  Erasmus,  Colloquia  :  Proci  et  Puellae. 

176 


POST-MERIDIAN :   EVENING 

AGE  cannot  wither  her  whom  not  gray  hairs 

Nor  furrowed  cheeks  have  made  the  thrall  of  Time ; 

For  Spring  lies  hidden  under  Winter's  rime, 
And  violets  know  the  victory  is  theirs. 
Even  so  the  corn  of  Egypt,  unawares, 

Proud  Nilus  shelters  with  engulfing  slime; 

So  Etna's  hardening  crust  a  more  sublime 
Volley  of  pent-up  fires  at  last  prepares. 
O  face  yet  fair,  if  paler,  and  serene 

With  sense  of  duty  done  without  complaint ! 
O  venerable  crown !  —  a  living  green, 

Strength  to  the  weak,  and  courage  to  the  faint  — 
Thy  bleaching  locks,  thy  wrinkles,  have  but  been 

Fresh  beads  upon  the  rosary  of  a  saint ! 


A  ministering  angel  thou. 

Scott,  Marmion. 

177 


FOREBODING 

O  FATHERLESS  as  was  thy  short-lived  sire 
Before  thee  motherless,  a  fear  will  creep 
Upon  me  as  I  watch  thy  fevered  sleep, 

Mark  how,  with  every  breath  thou  dost  respire, 

Thou  fann'st  the  fury  of  a  wasting  fire, 

And  view  the  sickle  Moon  her  station  keep 
Athwart  the  pane  —  what  is  there  here  to  reap  ? 

Why  the  full  grain  of  the  young  shoot  require  ? 

So  like  him,  like  thy  father,  featured  so, 

Named  for  him,  be  his  further  parallel : 

Music  and  art  enchant  thee,  poesy  flow 

From  thee,  and  every  generous  impulse  dwell 

In  thee,  that  all  shall  mourn  thee  when  thou  go. 

There  pause!  —  too  soon  he  went,  beloved  too  well! 


Tu  Marcellus  eris. 
Virgil, 

178 


HERE  was  the  ancient  strand,  the  utmost  reach, 
Of  the  great  Northern  ice-wave;  hitherto 
With  its  last  pulse  it  mounted,  then  withdrew, 

Leaving  its  fringe  of  wreckage  on  the  beach : 

Boulder  and  pebble  and  sand-matrix  —  each 
From  crag  or  valley  ravished;  scanty  clue 
To  its  old  site  affording  in  its  new, 

Yet  real,  as  the  men  of  science  teach. 

Life  hath  not  less  its  terminal  moraine : 

Look  how  on  that  discharged  from  melting  snows 

Another  rears  itself,  the  spoil  of  plain 

And  mountain  also,  marked  by  stones  in  rows, 

With  legend  meet  for  such  promiscuous  pain : 
Here  rests  —  Hier  ruhet  —  or  Id  repose. 


After  the  exercise,  I  RO  into  the  burying-place,  now  full  of  stones,  and 
view  my  dear  sister's.  —  Samuel  Sewall,  Diary. 

Riposo  alcun  de  le  fatiche  tante. 

Petrarch,  Sonnets,  cclxxix. 


EDITORIALS 

AND 

ESSAYS 


POPULAR  ELECTION  OF  SENATORS1 

AGITATION  in  favor  of  a  constitutional  amendment 
to  this  end,  begun  by  several  State  Legislatures  during 
the  past  year,  was  renewed  on  Saturday  before  the 
appropriate  committee  of  the  House  of  Representa 
tives.  Every  thoughtful  mind  must  welcome  the 
least  sign  of  revolt  against  the  present  composition 
and  disgraceful  tendency  of  the  United  States  Senate. 
The  election  to  that  body  of  Governor  Hill,  the  Demo 
cratic  boss  of  New  York ;  the  bare  defeat  of  Foraker, 
the  Republican  boss  of  Ohio ;  the  arts  to  which  Sena 
tor  Sherman  was  forced  to  resort  in  order  to  save  his 
seat  from  political  brigandage ;  the  motives  which  led 
to  the  election  of  his  new  colleague  —  these  recent 
events  have  stimulated  the  growing  sense  of  a  vital 
defect  in  the  Senate-making  machinery.  It  is  as  yet 
but  a  vague  and  unreflecting  sense,  that  does  not  per 
ceive  the  root  of  the  evil,  and  it  is  in  danger  of  precipi 
tate  action  that  will  breed  fresh  abuses ;  but  the  unrest 
is  wholesome.  Once  more  an  idol  of  the  Constitution 
is  challenged,  and  men  are  not  afraid  to  think  and 
to  say  openly  that  the  work  of  the  fathers  must  be 
undone  or  done  over  in  the  interest  of  the  people,  by 
the  people,  and  for  the  people. 

1  From  the  Nation,  January  21,  1892,  vol.  54,  p.  45. 
183 


POPULAR  ELECTION  OF  SENATORS 

The  change  proposed  is  so  momentous  that  it  is  no 
exaggeration  to  affirm  that  it  outweighs  in  importance 
the  burning  questions  of  the  tariff  and  the  coinage. 
These  are  mere  questions  of  housekeeping,  which, 
however  they  may  be  decided,  leave  the  fabric  of  1787 
untouched.  To  take  from  the  Legislatures  the  choice 
of  Senators  is  to  revert  to  one  of  the  plans  rejected 
in  the  Constitutional  Convention,  and  to  embark  on 
a  fresh  voyage  of  experiment.  It  at  once  alters  funda 
mentally  the  relation  of  the  States  to  the  Federal 
Union  by  making  the  party  complexion  of  the  State 
Legislatures  a  matter  of  no  consequence  whatever  in 
Federal  politics,  so  far  as  concerns  the  control  of 
Congress.  We  hasten  to  declare  that  this  would  be 
a  great  boon  to  the  citizens  of  the  States  and  to  the 
people  at  large  —  perhaps  the  greatest  that  has  ever 
been  rendered  by  any  constitutional  amendment  save 
that  prohibiting  slavery. 

It  would  aim  a  well-nigh  fatal  blow  at  the  identifi 
cation  of  State  with  Federal  party  lines  and  party  or 
ganization,  which  the  fathers  unwittingly  ordained 
when  they  made  the  Senate  the  creature  of  the  legis 
latures.  Never  again  would  the  voter  be  called  upon 
to  sacrifice  his  scruples  respecting  local  measures  or 
men,  on  the  ground  that  the  party  ascendancy  in  Con 
gress  depended  on  returning  a  Legislature  which 
would  maintain  the  party  strength  in  the  Federal 
Senate.  This  freedom  once  acquired,  we  cannot 
184 


POPULAR  ELECTION  OF  SENATORS 

doubt  that  our  municipal  life  would  immensely  profit 
by  it ;  that  municipal  (and  State)  contests  would  tend 
more  and  more  to  emancipate  themselves  from  every 
other  consideration  save  the  genuine  issue ;  and  that 
more  and  more  independence  and  fluidity  would  be 
manifested  in  forming  parties  ad  hoc,  irrespective  of 
names  and  affiliations  applicable  to  Federal  party 
organizations.  Surely  to  bring  about  such  a  consum 
mation,  much  may  be  hazarded. 

Nevertheless,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  on  the  very 
road  to  real,  away  from  sham,  politics,  that  to  bestow 
on  the  people  the  election  of  Senators  by  Constitutional 
enactment  is  not  the  same  thing  as  to  ensure  their 
possessing  it.  Men  look  at  the  obvious  grasp  of  the 
machine  on  nearly  all  our  Legislatures  —  its  potential 
grasp  on  all  —  and  conclude  it  would  be  a  fine  stroke 
to  take  away  its  occupation.  They  need  to  be  re 
minded  that  the  greatest  victim  of  the  machine,  the 
almost  helpless  victim,  is  not  the  Legislature,  but  the 
people  itself.  By  an  unconscious  juggle  in  terms, 
election  is  assumed  to  be  synonymous  with  choice ;  it 
is  in  fact  a  mere  registering  of  the  decree  of  the  cau 
cus  and  the  machine.  The  average  honest  voter  goes 
to  the  polls  without  having  had  the  smallest  part  in 
nominating  the  candidates  for  whom  he  votes.  He 
does  not  know  them  personally,  he  may  never  have 
heard  their  names;  until  recently,  on  leaving  the 
booth,  he  could  not  repeat  the  list  he  had  just  de- 
185 


POPULAR  ELECTION  OF  SENATORS 

posited  in  the  ballot  box,  and  on  the  morrow  he 
might  have  forgotten  all  that  he  brought  away.  The 
Australian  ballot  has  to  some  extent  altered  this 
state  of  affairs,  and  one  of  its  highest  merits  is  that 
it  enables  the  people  really  to  put  in  nomination, 
as  well  as  to  pass  upon  the  cut-and-dried.  It  alone, 
of  our  present  safeguards,  would  prevent  the  elec 
tion  of  Senators  by  the  people  from  being  manipu 
lated  by  the  machine  as  readily  as  that  of  Repre 
sentatives. 

To  our  minds,  there  is  small  chance  of  the  proposed 
amendment  being  carried,  especially  if  it  is  compli 
cated  (as  is  proposed  by  one  Congressman)  with  a 
scheme  for  enlarging  the  Senate  and  thus  overcoming 
the  inequitable  equality  of  the  small  States.  More 
over,  an  opportunity  is  afforded  to  better  our  existing 
condition  by  simply  giving  back  to  the  States  the 
power  to  regulate  the  election  of  Senators  —  that  is, 
by  repealing  the  act  of  July  25,  1866,  the  first  of  its 
kind,  "  to  regulate  the  times  and  manner  of  holding 
elections  for  Senators  of  Congress,"  with  its  perni 
cious  enforcement  of  viva-voce  voting,  most  favorable 
to  party  pressure  and  bribery.  Senator  Sherman  him 
self  opposed  it  on  its  passage,  as  did  Senators  Fessen- 
den  and  Edmunds,  and  their  objections  have  been 
sustained  by  the  results  of  experience.  A  writer  in  the 
Atlantic  Monthly  for  August  last  propounded  a  plan 
of  election  by  the  Legislature  as  required  by  the  Con- 
186 


POPULAR  ELECTION  OF  SENATORS 

stitution,  out  of  nominations  by  the  people  —  a  re 
striction  which  may  or  may  not  be  constitutional,  but 
which  it  would  be  worth  the  while  of  any  State  to  test 
the  legality  of.  To  evade  the  machine  and  the  lobby, 
the  same  writer  urged  making  use  of  the  Australian 
ballot  both  for  these  nominations  and  for  the  legis 
lative  vote  upon  them  —  a  procedure  certainly  pre 
senting  no  difficulty.  He  argued  that  this  system, 
if  established,  would  enable  capable  men  to  put 
themselves  in  nomination  without  being  indecently 
beholden  to  any  body  or  interest.  We  observe  that  a 
member  of  the  House  Committee  at  the  hearing  on 
Saturday  asked  "  if  popular  elections  might  not  result 
in  sending  less  able  men  to  the  Senate,  and  if  the  pre 
sent  method  did  not  secure  the  services  of  men  of  abil 
ity,  who,  perhaps,  could  not  be  induced  to  take  part 
in  a  political  contest  such  as  was  incident  to  elections." 
Undoubtedly  they  might,  if  the  machine  were  left  free 
to  manage  the  "  popular  elections  " ;  quite  otherwise 
if  the  people  could  really  send  up  a  list  of  candidates, 
each  name  representing  a  considerable  body  of  voters, 
such  as  would  entitle  it  to  a  place  on  the  official  Aus 
tralian  ballot.  "  A  man,"  says  the  Atlantic  writer  re 
ferred  to,  "fit  to  be  Senator  would  have  a  decided 
prestige  when  proposed  in  this  manner  as  against  the 
product  of  intrigue  and  jobbery.  Such  men  would 
tend  to  multiply  in  the  popular  nominations,  inas 
much  as  they  could  allow  their  names  to  be  used 
187 


POPULAR  ELECTION  OF  SENATORS 

without  loss  of  self-respect,  and  with  no  obligation  to 
work  in  their  own  behalf." 

By  whatever  mode  to  be  accomplished,  the  ques 
tion  presses,  how  to  make  the  Senate  the  Broad  Stone 
of  Honor  of  our  American  commonwealth  —  a  body 
no  longer,  to  be  sure,  "  the  camp  of  slaves,"  as  in  the 
unhappy  days  of  doughfaces  and  lords  of  the  lash, 
but  a  chapel  of  ease  for  millionaires,  a  baron's  castle 
for  the  spoilsman,  an  altar  of  refuge  for  Quay,  a 
legitimate  goal  of  ambition  for  Hill  and  Foraker. 


A  PREMIUM  ON  AGGRESSION1 

"CONVEY  the  wise  it  call,"  and  indemnity  is  as 
good  a  name  as  any  other  for  the  last  booty  to  be 
wrung  from  the  defeated.  It  is  not  the  magnitude  of 
the  Japanese  demand  which  the  Russians  resent,  but 
the  pretence ;  and  their  feeling  will  sooner  or  later  be 
shared  by  all  thinking  men,  and  by  nations  not  blind  to 
the  consequences  of  Russia's  yielding  this  point  in  the 
negotiations  for  peace.  M.  de  Martens  had  no  diffi 
culty,  the  other  day,  in  exposing  from  historical  ex 
amples  the  innovation  now  sought  to  be  established 
as  a  part  of  international  law.  No  precedent  can  be 
found  for  payment  of  an  indemnity  during  a  war  still 
undecided,  and  still  fought  by  the  losing  party  on 
foreign  soil.  The  case  is  really  much  as  if  Japan  and 
the  United  States  should  come  to  blows  in  the  Philip 
pines  —  as  may  yet  happen  —  and,  on  our  being 
worsted  and  deprived  of  all  but  the  last  island  of  the 
archipelago, "  indemnity  "  should  be  exacted  over  and 
above  American  evacuation.  It  is  true  that  the  islands 
are  nominally  American  soil,  but  neither  in  fact  nor 
in  our  national  consciousness  are  they  any  more  a 
part  of  the  United  States  than  Manchuria  is  a  part 
of  Russia.  We  could  relinquish  them,  indeed,  with  a 

1  From  the  Nation,  August  24,  1905,  vol.  81,  p.  156. 
189 


profit,  and  would  that  we  might.  But  to  pay  "  indem 
nity  "  for  their  being  taken  from  us,  even  for  our  own 
fault,  with  the  war  confined  wholly  to  that  distant 
scene  and  never  directed  against  this  continent,  would 
rouse  the  old  American  sense  of  humor  which  Dewey 
and  McKinley  and  Lodge  and  Roosevelt  and  Taft 
have  nearly  extinguished. 

Russia,  in  other  words,  is  not  in  extremis,  is  not 
hostilely  occupied  except  on  an  insignificant  margin, 
can  spare  for  her  steady  national  existence  the  fleets 
she  has  lost  in  Eastern  waters,  and  comes  to  the  con 
ference  as  Japan  in  fact  comes,  to  consider  how  best 
to  end  a  drawn  game.  Both  nations  would  gladly  be 
spared  any  further  expenditure  of  blood  and  trea 
sure  ;  and  Japan  could  have  been  gratified  if  she  had 
been  content  to  have  her  victories  confirmed,  and 
had  not  aimed  to  make  Russia  pay  all  that  her  hu 
miliation  has  cost  her  opponent.  "  Get  out  of  here," 
said  Japan  with  reference  to  Manchuria  and  Korea, 
"that  I  may  replace  you."  After  Port  Arthur,  Liao- 
Yang,  Mukden,  and  the  naval  overthrow  in  the 
Korean  Straits,  Russia  stands  ready  to  get  out  and 
to  retire  within  her  own  boundaries.  If  Japan  can 
extort  other  territorial  concessions  looking  to  her 
security  against  a  repetition  of  clashing,  well  and 
good.  To  expect  reimbursement  for  all  her  outlay 
in  deliberately  providing  for  this  success,  is  either 
childish  or  monstrous. 

190 


Nor  does  it  make  for  peace.  "  Indemnity "  will, 
if  secured,  leave  the  new  Russia  as  permanently  hos 
tile  a  neighbor  as  the  old  —  and  popularly  hostile, 
as  opposed  to  the  greed  of  expansion  in  the  ruling 
classes  which  brought  on  the  present  war.  When  we 
consider  the  Tsar's  essentially  peaceable  disposition, 
we  may  feel  assured  that  his  consenting  to  a  confer 
ence  was  an  act  of  conscience  fairly  to  be  called  na 
tional,  in  confession  of  the  utter  needlessness  of  the 
embroilment  with  Japan.  It  has  been  attended  by 
the  concession  of  the  beginnings  of  self-government 
in  his  empire,  amid  an  awakened  public  conscious 
ness  full  of  hope  if  full  of  doubt,  and  ready  to  surge 
in  any  direction  that  will  make  manifest  the  new 
national  spirit.  "Indemnity"  will  reconcile  the  Rus 
sian  people  to  a  war  thrust  upon  them  by  autocracy, 
and  will  give  them  their  first  sense  of  being  really 
attacked  by  a  foreign  enemy.  The  ranks  will  be 
filled,  the  carnage  will  go  on,  tribute  will  not  be  paid. 
On  the  other  hand,  any  adjustment  short  of  tribute 
will  find  favor,  and  will  bequeath  no  such  rancor  as 
to  prevent  Russia  and  Japan  from  being  on  good 
terms  hereafter. 

The  indemnity  extorted  by  the  Germans  in  Paris 
was  a  guarantee  of  peace,  no  doubt ;  but  peace  in  the 
sense  of  non-collision  between  the  two  countries. 
The  true  peace  which  results  from  neighborly  regard 
and  abandonment  of  ambitious  designs,  is  yet  far  off. 
191 


A  PREMIUM   ON   AGGRESSION 

Have  armaments  been  diminished  on  either  side  of 
the  frontier  ?  Might  not  the  present  relations  between 
France  and  Germany  be  fitly  described  as  a  truce  ? 
The  milliards  were  a  penalty,  moreover,  for  the  Sec 
ond  Empire's  having  declared  war,  wickedly  and 
groundlessly.  The  novelty  of  Japan's  demand  lies 
in  the  fact  that  she,  no  matter  with  what  provocation, 
began  the  war,  struck  the  first  blow — struck  it  without 
warning,  as  a  savage  nation  may  do,  and  yet  with 
the  utmost  deliberation,  as  a  sequel  to  years  of  secret 
preparation.  This  is  what  other  nations  must  face 
if  they  sanction  it  as  a  part  of  the  international  code. 
We  know,  of  course,  Japan's  plea  that  her  first  blow 
was  defensive,  and  the  war  a  defensive  war.  So  said 
the  South  when  it  fired  upon  Sumter.  There  is  no 
richer  field  for  casuistry  than  a  defensive  war.  Na 
poleon  III  used  this  pretext  in  declaring  war  against 
Prussia,  which,  after  Sadowa,  had  grown  too  weighty 
for  the  European  equilibrium.  Any  war  can  be  so 
construed,  by  a  power  desirous  to  pick  a  quarrel,  and 
will  be  if  the  hard-and-fast  line  is  not  maintained 
between  those  who  attack  and  those  who  repel. 

Let  the  Japanese  justify  their  pretensions  of  being 
champions  of  peace  in  the  Orient.  Grant  that,  by 
superiority  in  bloodshed  on  land  and  sea,  they  have 
established  their  claim  to  recognition  among  Chris 
tian  nations  by  Christian  Majesties  and  Presidents. 
Let  them  pose  as  the  benefactors  of  Russia  in  having 
192 


A  PREMIUM  ON  AGGRESSION 

given  to  her  outworn  social  fabric  a  shock  that  pre 
cipitates  the  dawn  of  freedom.  But  let  them  distinctly 
be  told  that  all  their  pacific  protestations  are  but 
cant  so  long  as,  having  originally  assaulted  Russia, 
they  press  for  "indemnity."  This  high-handedness 
is  not  going  to  be  dropped  by  a  military  Power 
flushed  \vith  successes  she  dared  not  dream  of,  and 
provided  (supposing  she  gets  it)  with  millions  of 
sweat  money  to  be  immediately  put  into  fortifications, 
arms,  and  ships  of  war  in  majorem  gloriam  Nippon. 
Mankind  will  take  warning. 


THE  TRUE  FUNCTION   OF  A 
UNIVERSITY  1 

As  usual,  many  topics  in  President  Eliot's  Report 
on  the  condition  of  Harvard  College  for  the  past  year 
invite  comment.  .  .  .  Half  a  page  devoted  to  inter 
collegiate  athletics  has  for  us  a  greater  momentary 
interest,  in  that  the  purpose  is  manifested  to  abate 
a  growing  evil  about  which  too  little  has  been  said. 
What  goes  before  is  retrospective;  in  this  section  of 
the  Report  lies  the  germ  of  a  future  policy. 

Nothing  could  be  better,  as  a  condensed  statement, 
than  the  following  words  of  the  Report,  after  an 
approving  enumeration  of  the  various  sports  pursued 
with  ardor  by  the  students :  — 

"Three  of  these  sports,"  says  President  Eliot, 
"  namely,  foot-ball,  base-ball,  and  rowing,  are  liable 
to  abuses  wThich  do  not  attach  to  the  sports  themselves 
so  much  as  to  their  accompaniments  under  the  pre 
sent  system  of  intercollegiate  competitions.  These 
abuses  are:  extravagant  expenditure  by  and  for  the 
ball-players  and  the  crews ;  the  interruption  of  col 
lege  work  which  exaggerated  interest  in  the  frequent 
ball-matches  causes ;  betting ;  trickery  condoned  by  a 

1  From  the  Nation,  February  9,  1888,  vol.  46,  p.  111. 
194 


TRUE    FUNCTION   OF   A  UNIVERSITY 

public  opinion  which  demands  victory ;  and  the  "hys 
terical  demonstrations  of  the  college  public  over  suc 
cessful  games.  These  follies  can  best  be  kept  in 
check  —  they  cannot  be  eradicated  —  by  reducing 
the  number  of  intercollegiate  competitions  to  the  low 
est  terms.  The  number  of  these  competitions  is  at 
present  excessive  from  every  point  of  view.  Wrest 
ling,  sparring,  and  foot-ball  —  games  which  involve 
violent  personal  collision  —  have  to  be  constantly 
watched  and  regulated,  lest  they  become  brutal." 

The  development  of  this  perfectly  just  indictment 
would  bring  to  view  four  main  tendencies,  which  must 
be  deprecated  by  every  friend  alike  of  the  higher  edu 
cation  and  of  morality.  One  is  towards  the  prolonga 
tion  of  the  boyish  or  puerile  stage,  which  ought  finally 
to  be  cast  away  when  the  young  man  enters  college. 
We  do  not  mean  that  animal  spirits  should  be  left 
behind,  but  that  the  point  of  view  from  which  life  has 
hitherto  been  regarded  should  be  radically  changed. 
Intellectually,  the  student  should  feel  himself  to  have 
come  of  age  as  soon  as  matriculated,  and  should 
perceive  the  propriety  or  necessity  of  putting  away 
childish  things.  Sports  need  not  be  -abandoned,  but 
just  as  they  will  no  longer  be  marbles  or  peg-top,  so 
they  should  be  subordinated  to  the  main  object  for 
which  men  go  to  college.  The  dignity  of  the  institu 
tion  should  beget  a  corresponding  dignity  and  self- 
restraint  and  steady  application  in  the  beneficiary. 
195 


TRUE   FUNCTION  OF  A  UNIVERSITY 

The  unspeakable  importance  of  these  years  for  the 
cultivation  of  the  faculties  and  the  formation  of  char 
acter  in  preparation  for  the  struggle  for  existence, 
should  sober  and  steady  all  but  those  already  cor 
rupted  by  the  taint  of  wealth.  But  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  childishness  is  fostered  by  intercollegiate  con 
tests,  not  only  in  the  shape  of  "hysterical  demon 
strations  over  successful  games,"  but  in  giving  such 
a  predominance  to  the  athletic  interest  that  recrea 
tion  and  enjoyment,  or  the  having  what  is  called  a 
good  time,  becomes  the  most  potent  attraction  which 
a  college  education  holds  out.  It  is  a  significant  fact, 
too,  that  the  rise  and  growth  of  the  highly  organized 
and  technical  forms  of  sport  at  Harvard  has  been 
coincident  with  the  revival  of  secret  societies  —  the 
permanent  fountains  of  puerility  —  and  of  hazing. 

The  second  tendency  in  order  is  towards  the  erec 
tion  of  a  false  standard  of  superiority  among  colleges 
according  as  one  or  other  "  carries  off  the  cup."  Har 
vard,  for  example,  a  purely  educational  foundation, 
whose  glories  antedate  the  advent  of  base-ball  and 
the  Rugby  game,  is  regarded  as  humbled  if  Yale  or 
Princeton  or  Columbia  comes  off  first  in  any  given 
contest  or  series  of  contests.  This  feeling  is  not  put 
on,  but  is  perfectly  serious  among  students.  You  will 
find  them  in  their  local  papers  discussing  the  harm 
that  will  befall  the  college  if  it  continues  to  win  only 
second  and  third  prizes.  The  athletes  of  the  prepara- 
196 


TRUE  FUNCTION  OF  A  UNIVERSITY 

tory  schools,  it  is  said,  will  instinctively  be  drawn  to 
the  college  which  has  achieved  the  highest  distinction 
in  their  line.  It  has  even  been  charged  lately  that 
a  systematic  attempt  was  making  to  recruit  from  a 
certain  famous  New  England  school  for  one  college 
at  the  expense  of  another  by  means  of  a  subsidized 
local  journal  —  if  our  memory  is  not  at  fault ;  of 
course  through  undergraduate,  not  official  intrigue. 
We  have  also  an  idea  that  the  faculties  of  the  smaller 
colleges  are  afraid  to  grapple  with  the  evil  of  abnor 
mal  athletics  because  they  do  really  apprehend  a 
loss  of  patronage.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  clear  that 
nothing  could  be  more  opposed  to  the  efficiency  of 
the  college  training  than  an  habitual  substitution, 
for  pride  in  the  intellectual  standing  and  ample  equip 
ment  of  Alma  Mater,  of  pride  in  her  muscular  su 
premacy.  Do  we  not,  in  fact,  see  colleges  which  are 
lagging  in  the  race  of  improved  methods  and  enlarged 
scope  of  instruction,  hug  the  delusion  that  this  is 
offset  by  the  trophies  of  the  sporting-ground  ?  Let 
us,  then,  remark  here  that  all  the  trophies  of  this  sort 
that  Harvard  has  ever  won  by  land  or  sea,  are  as  dust 
in  the  balance  compared  with  the  simple  fact  that  her 
President's  annual  Report  is  out  of  sight  the  most 
weighty,  influential,  and  eagerly  anticipated  edu 
cational  document  published  in  America. 

The  third  tendency  may  be  briefly  dismissed  be 
cause  there  will  be  no  dispute  about  it.   The  inter- 
197 


TRUE  FUNCTION   OF  A  UNIVERSITY 

collegiate  games  bring  the  college  world  down  to  the 
level  of  the  professional  gambler.  It  is  incontestable 
that  students  whose  minds  are  constantly  filled  with 
the  thought  of  intercollegiate  rivalry  at  sports,  follow 
with  the  greatest  zest  the  course  of  the  professional 
matches  all  over  the  country,  turn  to  them  first  in  the 
morning  paper,  make  them  the  staple  of  their  con 
versation.  This  is  bad  enough,  but  unavoidably  they 
catch  the  tone  of  these  vulgar  performances,  they 
practise  or  are  put  on  their  guard  against  "  trickery 
condoned  by  public  opinion,"  and  above  all  they  fall 
easily  into  the  habit  of  betting  on  the  result.  The 
ill-feeling  thus  engendered,  the  charges  of  foul  play, 
unfair  umpiring,  spying,  concealment,  lying,  are  dis 
gustingly  visible  on  the  grounds  or  in  the  echoes  of 
the  college  press.  No  man  ever  felt  elevated  by  wit 
nessing  such  encounters,  and  their  degrading  influ 
ence  speaks  both  to  the  eye  and  to  the  understanding. 
Great  masses  of  young  men  cannot  thus  be  brought 
together  with  professional  excitement  and  manners 
without  abusing  the  opportunity  in  other  ways.  Nor 
can  parents  reflect  without  wincing  on  the  possibili 
ties  which  attend  the  transfer  of  a  mob  of  students 
away  from  their  habitual  surveillance  to  a  distant 
city,  there  to  remain,  perhaps,  overnight,  in  a  state 
of  the  highest  elation  or  depression  —  were  it  merely 
innocent  and  not  affected  by  money  at  stake  on  the 
result  of  the  game.  Neither,  finally,  can  this  trans- 
198 


TRUE  FUNCTION  OF  A  UNIVERSITY 

portation  take  place  without  a  large  pecuniary  out 
lay,  which  falls  upon  the  parents,  whether  they  can 
afford  it  or  not.  Add  this  sum  to  the  cost  of  sustain 
ing  crews  and  teams,  and  to  what  is  lost  in  gaming 
and  in  vice,  and  we  have  a  potent  factor  of  extrava 
gance  in  ordinary  college  life  —  the  fourth  tendency 
of  those  we  have  deprecated. 

Much  more  might  be  said  if  we  had  the  space. 
We  regret  that  President  Eliot  should  imply  that 
the  intercollegiate  competitions  cannot  be  absolutely 
abolished.  Nothing  is  simpler  than  an  edict  to  this 
effect,  and  we  believe  it  is  Harvard's  mission  to  utter 
it.  She  ought  boldly  to  take  the  position  that  beyond 
furnishing  ample  facilities  for  indoor  and  outdoor 
exercise,  for  the  perfection  of  the  physical  man,  the 
college  has  nothing  to  do  with  athletics  unless  to 
supervise  them.  Its  business  is  to  shape  the  human 
intellect.  Neither  should  it  be  moved  by  the  argu 
ment  —  sound  or  unsound,  matters  not  —  that  with 
out  the  intercollegiate  meetings  the  local  fondness  for 
athletics  would  die  out.  Again,  we  say,  this  is  no  con 
cern  of  an  institution  which  has  done  all  that  money 
and  science  can  do  to  tempt  men  to  exercise.  But  it 
is  absurd  that  a  thousand  undergraduates  cannot 
among  themselves  find  all  the  competition  necessary 
for  any  good  end  of  sport.  The  rubbish  about 
"  records  "  needs  to  be  put  aside.  It  is  not  incumbent 
on  any  college  to  see  that  its  students  jump  one  foot 
199 


TRUE  FUNCTION   OF  A  UNIVERSITY 

higher,  run  one  minute  faster,  or  in  any  other  way 
approximate  a  receding  standard  of  physical  excel 
lence.  Health  may  be  attained,  and  sound  constitu 
tions,  by  moderate,  well-directed  exertion,  without 
thought  of  any  competitor.  So  long  as  this  is  so,  the 
duty  of  the  college  is  to  turn  the  student's  thoughts 
to  things  spiritual;  to  encourage  early  manliness,  as 
the  entrance  age  is  steadily  rising;  to  discourage  re 
spect  for  the  non-essentials  of  college  life  above  its 
main  excuse  for  being ;  and  to  put  an  end  to  all  occa 
sions  for  unfriendliness  and  bitterness  between  insti 
tutions  whose  only  emulation  should  be  to  turn  out, 
at  the  least  possible  cost,  the  highest  type  of  civilized 
man. 


A  GREAT  journalist  has  departed.  His  name,  ab 
solutely  unknown  to  the  American  public  in  1865, 
blazed  up  instantly  upon  the  appearance  of  the  Na- 
tion,  at  a  moment  when  Bennett  and  Bryant,  Greeley 
and  Raymond,  were  approaching  the  end  of  their 
careers,  leaving  no  successors.  He  was  not  a  great 
editor  in  the  sense  of  being  an  organizer  or  manager. 
The  Nation  was  avowedly  patterned  after  the  Lon 
don  Spectator;  the  Evening  Post  was  already  in  its 
ninth  decade  when  Mr.  Godkin  joined  Messrs.  Carl 
Schurz  and  Horace  White  in  assuming  editorial  di 
rection  of  it.  He  had,  strictly  speaking,  no  business 
instinct,  no  faculty  for  details,  nor  any  liking  for 
the  task  of  coordinating  the  departments  of  a  daily 
newspaper.  He  was  par  excellence  a  leader-wrriter, 
with  an  astonishing  productiveness,  and  a  freshness 
in  handling  old  themes  which  won  even  the  hardened 
proofreader's  admiration.  The  prospectus  of  the 
Nation  laid  stress  upon  the  advantages  of  a  weekly 
over  a  daily  newspaper  in  respect  of  leisure  fc-r  ascer 
tainment  of  the  facts  and  deliberation  in  comment; 
and  the  argument  was  as  incontrovertible  in  1881, 

1  From  the  Nation,  May  22,  1902,  vol.  74,  p.  403. 
201 


EDWIN   LAWRENCE   GODKIN 

when  Mr.  Godkin  became  one  of  the  editors  of  the 
Evening  Post,  as  it  was  in  1865.  The  change  might 
not  have  come  about  had  the  Nation  prospered  so  as 
to  warrant  an  enlargement  of  its  staff.  The  strain  of 
writing  from  three  to  five  pages  for  it  wreekly  was  felt 
at  last  to  be  too  severe  as  well  as  too  unremunerative, 
in  view  of  the  scrutiny  to  which  Mr.  Godkin  was  sub 
jected  while  all  but  single-handed. 

Apart  from  the  resultant  greater  conspicuity,  the 
merging  of  the  weekly  editor  in  the  daily  was  not  a 
promotion,  for  the  Nation  had  already  placed  him  in 
the  front  rank  of  American  journalists  even  during 
the  lifetime  of  the  veterans  we  have  mentioned.  It 
was  a  familiar  flattery  to  have  his  articles  made  over 
at  a  safe  interval  in  a  metropolitan  daily ;  and  in  the 
country  at  large  the  practice  was  still  more  common. 
The  Nation  was  eagerly  read  in  every  newspaper 
office  of  importance,  and  its  ideas  filtered  down  with 
out  acknowledgment  through  a  thousand  channels. 
On  the  other  hand,  in  his  new  position,  Mr.Godkin 
became  inevitably  a  greater  target  for  censure  and 
abuse;  the  more  because  a  New  York  daily  must 
needs  come  to  closer  quarters  with  local  corruption 
and  misrule,  and  its  editor  be  more  exposed  to  pay 
with  his  person  for  incurring  the  wrath  of  organized 
iniquity.  This  Mr.  Godkin  did  in  his  memorable 
campaign  against  Tammany. 

Few  journalists  have  labored  less  whose  writing 
202 


was  of  as  high  a  quality  as  Mr.  Godkin's.  His  pen 
was  fluent  and  ready,  but  his  diction  never  careless ; 
rather  it  bore  at  all  times  the  marks  of  training  and 
culture  of  a  high  order.  While  able  to  develop  a  sub 
ject  at  any  length,  he  had  extraordinary  aptitude  for 
paragraph  writing;  his  touch  in  either  case  was  al 
ways  light,  his  matter  always  pithy.  His  expression 
was  very  direct,  vigorous,  and  trenchant ;  and  he  had 
an  exceptional  gift  for  descriptive  narration.  His 
style,  indeed,  wras  adequate  for  every  use  to  which  he 
applied  it,  and  passed  without  effort  from  the  journal 
istic  to  the  literary  vein,  treating  nothing  that  it  did 
not  adorn.  Such  adaptability  is  seldom  encountered, 
and  perhaps  the  nearest  parallel  to  his  is  to  be  found 
in  the  writings  of  Harriet  Martin eau,  long  an  editorial 
contributor  to  the  Daily  News.  Mr.  Godkin's  humor, 
which  "  was  ever  lance  and  sword  to  him,  and  buckler 
and  helmet,"  perplexed  the  simple-minded,  while  it 
enraged  his  enemies.  Its  droll  visualizing  quality 
lightened  every  page  that  he  wrote  for  the  Nation. 
On  this  side  he  has  never  been  surpassed,  if  ap 
proached,  and  the  effectiveness  of  his  humor  as  a 
political  weapon  consisted  in  the  freedom  with  which 
he  directed  it  against  the  objects  of  a  sham  popular 
and  partisan  reverence.  He  owed  this  freedom,  unde 
niably,  to  the  foreign  birth  with  which  he  was  con 
stantly  reproached ;  but  it  was  his  humor  which  first 
pierced  the  glamour  and  enabled  him  to  see  men  and 
203 


EDWIN    LAWRENCE   GODKIN 

policies  in  a  dry  light.  Biting  as  it  might  be,  it  was 
never  cynical.  His  conversation  was  naturally  playful 
and  seasoned  with  a  hearty  laughter,  and  his  daily 
companionship  most  delightful. 

As  no  American  could  have  written  Bryce's 
"American  Commonwealth"  or  Goldwin  Smith's 
"  History  of  the  United  States,"  so  it  may  be  doubted 
if  any  native  of  this  country  could  have  erected  the 
standard  of  political  independence  which  Mr.  God- 
kin  set  up  in  the  Nation  and  maintained  in  the  Even 
ing  Post.  He  did  this,  however,  not  as  a  foreigner, 
but  as  an  American  to  the  core.  A  utilitarian  of  the 
school  of  Bentham,  an  economist  of  the  school  of 
John  Stuart  Mill,  an  English  Liberal  to  whom  Amer 
ica,  with  all  its  flagrant  inconsistency  of  slaveholding, 
was  still  the  hope  of  universal  democracy,  he  cast  in 
his  lot  with  us,  became  a  naturalized  citizen,  took  an 
American  wife  —  gave  every  pledge  to  the  land  of  his 
adoption  except  that  of  being  a  servile  follower  of 
party.  He  brought  to  his  high  calling  sound  principles 
of  finance,  with  which  he  fought  the  good  fight  of 
honest  money,  specie  payments,  and  currency  reform ; 
of  political  economy,  with  which  he  combated  protec 
tion  and  its  attendant  corruption;  of  popular  gov 
ernment,  which  stood  by  him  in  the  removal  of  the 
Reconstruction  scandal;  of  office  as  a  public  trust, 
which  made  his  journal  the  most  potent  medium  for 
the  promotion  of  civil-service  reform  and  the  exposure 
204 


EDWIN  LAWRENCE  GODKIN 

of  machine  and  boss  government.  Nowhere  is  there 
such  a  body  of  useful  doctrine  for  serious-minded 
youth  seeking  to  fit  themselves  to  be  "perfect  citi 
zens"  (as  was  said  of  the  late  John  M.  Forbes)  as 
the  files  of  the  Nation  contained  during  Mr.  God- 
kin's  thirty-five  years'  connection  with  it.  Nowhere 
can  the  historically-minded  man  more  profitably  turn 
for  light  upon  our  latter-day  decadence. 

Many  volumes  of  speeches  are  compiled,  but  few 
are  read  long  after  their  publication,  and  the  same 
oblivion  more  certainly  overtakes  the  political  editor's 
monument.  His  contention  is  for  the  hour;  his  tri 
umph  is  in  his  shaping  of  passing  events.  Those, 
however,  whom  curiosity  or  study  leads  to  examine 
the  writings  of  Mr.  Godkin,  will  find  them  distin 
guished  by  a  philosophic  cast  not  unknown  to  Ameri 
can  oratory  before  the  war,  but  so  ominously  wanting 
in  the  legislative  debates  of  the  past  two  decades.  It 
may  be  that  Mr.  Godkin  will  be  currently  quoted 
hereafter  no  more  than  Greeley,  but  not  for  the  same 
reason.  His  text  abounds  in  broad  general  sentiments 
and  reflections  such  as  find  corroboration  wherever 
"history  repeats  itself,"  and  which  in  fact  have  in 
them  the  essence  of  prophecy.  The  number  of  fortu 
nate  predictions,  both  generic  and  specific,  was  truly 
notable  in  Mr.  Godkin's  case. 

His  judgment,  as  was  proper  in  one  whose  func 
tion  was  criticism,  was  as  rare  a  faculty  as  any  that 
205 


EDWIN  LAWRENCE   GODKIN 

he  possessed.  Applied  to  public  characters,  it  was 
almost  unerring;  and  to  measures,  seldom  at  fault. 
To  say  that  it  was  wholly  unaffected  by  the  heat  of 
controversy,  or  was  free  from  occasional  excess  or 
unfairness,  would  be  an  unnatural  claim.  But  time 
itself  has  already  approved  the  more  significant  esti 
mates  placed  by  him  upon  the  men  of  his  day ;  and 
where  the  legend  is  more  lenient,  it  \vill  be  found  that 
the  popular  memory  is  defective.  The  application  of 
his  judgment  to  causes  was,  it  is  needless  to  remark, 
purely  ethical,  and  divorced  from  considerations  of 
the  winning  or  the  losing  side.  Sed  victa  Catoni  was 
honor  enough  for  him.  Yet  when  one  enumerates  all 
the  dangers  averted,  and  all  the  advances  won  in  the 
struggle  for  good  government  on  this  continent,  Mr. 
Godkin's  mental  balance  is  clearly  apparent  to  those 
who  remember  his  attitude  towards  each.  And  if  we 
extend  our  consideration  to  foreign  affairs,  we  can 
but  admire  his  treatment  of  them  in  former  years, 
when  he  followed  them  more  closely  and  "  saw  what 
he  foresaw."  In  this  department  his  superiority  was 
preeminent.  In  domestic  affairs  his  judgment  re 
posed  on  faith  in  the  American  character  and  in  the 
ultimate  sanity  of  democracy.  If  it  wras  often  disap 
pointed,  it  was  often  gloriously  vindicated. 

There  was  occasion  enough  for  melancholy  in  re 
trospect.  Specific  reforms  with  a  definite  aim  in  view 


206 


EDWIN   LAWRENCE   GODKIN 

attainable  by  legislation  may  reach  a  happy  conclu 
sion.  Such  was  the  fate  of  the  anti-slavery  agitation, 
and  those  who  began  it  lived  to  see  the  fruit  thereof. 
Their  active  labors  lasted,  including  the  Civil  War, 
but  thirty-five  years  —  little  more  than  a  generation. 
For  precisely  the  same  term  Mr.  Godkin  strove,  above 
all,  to  create  a  spirit  of  independence  of  party  and 
abolish  the  spoils  system  of  government.  The  task 
was  more  difficult  than  the  destruction  of  slavery. 
He  witnessed  a  beginning  of  civil-service  reform  in 
the  national  domain  and  in  one  or  two  States;  yet 
witnessed  a  ceaseless  attack  upon  it  in  all,  an  evasion 
of  it  where  possible,  a  betrayal  of  it  by  a  President 
committed  to  the  support  of  it,  amid  the  general 
apathy  of  the  people  at  large.  He  saw,  at  the  Pre 
sidential  election  of  1896,  party  ascendency  secured 
by  pledges,  made  to  be  broken,  which  for  the 
moment  confounded  party  lines.  He  saw  the  De 
mocratic  party  manifest  at  one  time  a  miraculous 
power  of  self -regeneration,  only  to  sink  back  into 
the  deepest  of  its  abysses ;  the  Republican  party  all 
the  w7hile  stolidly  implacable  towards  its  come-outers 
for  conscience'  sake.  Worse  yet,  he  saw  public  men 
of  both  parties  involved  in  a  repudiation  of  the 
fundamental  maxims  of  our  republican  experiment, 
and  the  conversion  of  a  self-contained,  peaceful, 
industrious  democracy  into  an  earth-hungry  bel- 


207 


EDWIN    LAWRENCE   GODKIN 

ligerent,  seeking  points  of  hostile  contact  with  the 
most  warlike  monarchies. 

"  He  grew  old  in  an  age  he  condemned, 
Felt  the  dissolving  throes 
Of  a  social  order  he  loved, 
And,  like  the  Theban  seer, 
Died  in  his  enemies'  day." 

It  testifies  to  the  fibre  of  a  moralist  whom  the 
infirmity  of  age  was  consciously  drawing  from  the 
scene,  that  he  was  neither  soured  nor  dejected  by 
such  a  prospect.  It  was  in  Mr.  Godkin's  mind  to 
strive  to  the  end.  His  formal  retirement,  however, 
from  the  Evening  Post  was  none  too  soon  for  his 
failing  strength  of  body.  Though  he  recovered, 
beyond  all  expectations,  from  an  apoplectic  stroke 
incurred  on  February  4,  1900,  and  continued  to  write 
at  intervals  for  this  journal  during  another  twelve 
month,  he  could  not  complete  the  revision  of  his 
Reminiscences,  for  which  many  publishers  had  be 
sought  him,  and  we  shall  never  have  his  own  sum 
ming  up  of  his  life-work,  —  wherein  it  satisfied  him  to 
remember,  where  haply  it  fell  short  in  method, 
manner,  or  temper,  wrhat  title  it  gave  him  to  good 
fame  and  lasting  human  gratitude.  Some  who  first 
heard  his  trumpet-call  and  have  had  their  spiritual 
natures  determined  by  his  lofty  and  disinterested 
teaching  —  call  it  preaching,  if  you  will,  and  his 
press  a  religious  press  —  have  recently  publicly  con- 
208 


EDWIN   LAWRENCE   GODKIN 

fessed  their  indebtedness.  More  will  be  moved  to  do 
so  now ;  and  more  still,  alas !  —  a  multitude  —  will 
never  know  what  benefaction  they  have  received 
from  his  hand  who  moulded  for  good  the  generation 
from  which  they  sprung. 


JACOB  DOLSON   COX1 

THIRTY  years  ago  this  very  month  which  witnesses 
his  decease,  Mr.  Cox,  then  Secretary  of  the  Interior, 
received  from  President  Grant  such  treatment  as 
seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  an  upright  Cabinet  officer. 
One  McGarrahan,  who  had  for  years  been  endeavor 
ing  in  the  courts  to  establish  a  fraudulent  claim  to 
California  mining  lands  really  belonging  to  the 
United  States,  and  had  four  times  been  repulsed  in 
disgrace  by  the  courts,  was  working  upon  Congress, 
where  his  success  was  no  greater.  However,  his  claim 
had,  in  1870,  been  again  referred  to  the  House  Ju 
diciary  Committee,  and  he  had  as  counsel  Lewis 
Dent,  the  President's  brother-in-law.  Meanwhile 
the  New  Idria  Mining  Company  lodged  an  applica 
tion  with  the  Interior  Department  for  a  patent  to  the 
same  lands.  Through  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
District  of  Columbia,  promptly  and  sharply  over 
ruled  by  the  United  States  Supreme  Court,  Mc 
Garrahan  procured  an  injunction  against  the  appli 
cation  taking  its  natural  course.  This  failing,  he 
induced  the  Chairman  of  the  Judiciary  Committee 
to  request  Secretary  Cox  to  suspend  proceedings  in 

».  From  the  Nation,  August  9,  1900,  vol.  71,  p.  107. 
210 


JACOB   DOLSON  COX 

view  of  possible  Congressional  action  in  favor  of  the 
pretender.  The  Secretary,  upon  this  impertinence, 
asked  the  advice  of  Attorney-General  Hoar,  who 
replied  that  the  rights  of  the  New  Idria  Company 
were  determined  by  law,  and  were  not  subject  to 
requests  from  judiciary  committees  or  even  from 
Congress  itself.  Accordingly,  Secretary  Cox  ordered 
the  Land  Office  examiners  to  pursue  their  usual 
routine  with  due  notice  to  all  parties  interested. 

It  was  now  midsummer,  and  President  Grant  had 
gone  to  Long  Branch,  whither  the  McGarrahan 
interest  pursued  him,  and  drew  from  him  an  execu 
tive  order  to  Secretary  Cox  to  disregard  the  Attorney- 
General's  advice,  and  to  leave  the  matter  in  the  hands 
of  the  Judiciary  Committee.  The  Secretary,  who  had 
in  vain  urged  that  Grant  return  to  Washington  and 
submit  the  controversy  to  a  special  meeting  of  the 
Cabinet,  gave  plain  notice  in  his  reply  that  such  inter 
ference  on  the  part  of  his  chief,  if  persisted  in  (and 
this  was  not  the  first  instance),  would  compel  him  to 
resign. 

The  occasion  was  not  long  in  coming.  The  Penn 
sylvania  election  was  approaching,  and  the  Republi 
can  party  managers  made  their  customary  appear 
ance  in  Washington  to  blackmail  the  clerks  of  the 
departments  in  a  manner  now  prohibited  by  law. 
The  Interior  Department,  however,  had  been  put 
by  Secretary  Cox,  of  his  own  motion,  and  long  before 
211 


JACOB   DOLSON   COX 

any  civil-service  reform  regulations  had  been  enacted, 
on  a  merit  basis  —  no  dismissals  except  for  incom- 
petency,  no  appointments  .except  after  examination. 
He  accordingly  forbade  a  levy  fixed  in  the  case  of 
each  clerk  or  class  by  the  party  collectors,  with 
threat  of  dismissal  for  non-compliance.  From  this 
moment  he  was  doomed.  Simon  Cameron  and  Sena 
tor  "Zach"  Chandler  led  a  powerful  movement  to 
oust  the  independent  Secretary.  The  President,  on 
his  part,  displeased  at  finding  his  irregular,  semi- 
military  interference  resented,  —  moreover,  already 
seeking  a  renomination,  —  gave  no  support  to  Secre 
tary  Cox,  who  in  October  handed  in  his  resignation, 
following  Hoar,  who  had  been  previously  forced  out. 
"  Stalwart "  Republicans  like  Colonel  Forney  of  the 
Philadelphia  Press,  acting  as  Grant's  mouthpiece, 
insinuated  "personal  reasons"  for  the  resignation, 
and  then  attacked  the  retiring  officer  for  his  "  sickly 
sentimentality"  in  taking  the  civil  service  out  of 
politics,  as  well  as  for  his  action  in  the  case  of  the 
McGarrahan  claim. 

Secretary  Cox's  virtual  dismissal  at  the  behest  of 
the  machine  was  vigorously  censured  by  the  press 
of  the  country  without  distinction  of  party.  President 
Woolsey  of  Yale  and  his  professors  held  a  meeting  to 
swell  the  chorus  of  reprobation.  In  fact,  the  incident 
of  Secretary  Cox's  political  martyrdom  materially 
conduced  to  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  reform 
212 


JACOB   DOLSON   COX 

movement,  then  struggling  into  being.  It  was  still 
fresh  in  the  public  mind  when  the  opposition  aroused 
by  the  progress  of  official  corruption  under  Grant's 
first  administration  engendered  the  luckless  Cincin 
nati  Convention  of  1872.  General  Cox  was  a  natural 
candidate  of  the  reform  party,  with  which  he  had 
publicly  identified  himself.  A  lawyer  by  profession, 
he  had  had  civic  experience  as  State  Senator  of  Ohio, 
when  with  Hayes  and  Garfield  he  virtually  directed 
legislation;  at  the  close  of  the  war  he  had  been 
elected  Governor.  His  versatile  talent  had  found  free 
play  as  executive  head  of  the  miscellaneous  Depart 
ment  of  the  Interior.  His  services  on  the  battlefield 
had  been  conspicuous  and  highly  meritorious  and 
successful.  He  had  sacrificed  his  cabinet  position  in 
defence  of  pure  government.  He  suffered,  however, 
the  fate  of  most  martyrs,  and  his  leadership  was  not 
entertained  by  a  body  which  ended  by  nominating 
Greeley. 

A  partial  return  to  public  life  was  made  in  1876, 
when  the  Sixth  Ohio  District  elected  General  Cox 
to  the  House  of  Representatives  at  Washington  by 
the  largest  majority  ever  known.  It  was  his  hope  that 
he  might  thus  do  something  to  sustain  President 
Hayes.  He  did  not  serve  a  second  term;  whether  it 
was  not  assured  him,  or  whether  the  time  had  come 
for  him  to  choose  for  or  against  politics  as  a  career, 
he  felt  the  helplessness  of  the  new  member,  unused 
213 


JACOB  DOLSON   COX 

to  the  ropes.  He  saw  how  genuine  debate  is  handi 
capped  by  the  vastness  of  the  House  chamber  and 
by  the  mob  of  inattentive  members.  Perhaps  he  had 
had  enough  of  strife,  for  his  character  was  essentially 
easy  and  amiable,  however  resolute  and  soldierly. 
Save  for  one  speech  on  the  stump  in  1880  in  support  of 
his  old  associate  Garfield,  he  retired  altogether  from 
politics,  even  as  a  free  lance  or  as  a  contributor  to 
public  discussion  in  the  press.  He  came  near  being 
drawn  into  the  currency  debate,  for  he  had  been 
persuaded  by  his  friend  Dana  Horton's  arguments 
for  the  remonetization  of  silver ;  but  he  held  aloof.  He 
had,  on  quitting  the  Cabinet,  resumed  the  practice 
of  the  law  in  Cincinnati.  He  then  removed  to  Toledo 
to  become  President  of  the  Wabash  Railroad.  On 
the  expiration  of  his  Congressional  term,  he  was  made 
President  of  the  Cincinnati  University,  and  after 
wards  Dean  of  the  Law  School.  A  graduate  of  Ober- 
lin  College  in  1851,  he  returned  three  years  ago  to 
that  institution  to  end  his  days,  having  made  a  most 
agreeable  arrangement  by  which  his  private  library 
was  added  to  that  of  the  college,  and  he  provided  with 
a  corner  of  his  own,  where  his  literary  work  could  be 
pursued  amid  delightful  surroundings.  Here  he  com 
pleted,  among  other  works,  his  military  memoirs  now 
in  course  of  publication  by  the  Scribners,  and  he 
entered  upon  his  vacation  last  month  with  as  much 
buoyancy  and  expectation  as  ever.  It  was  his  summer 
214 


JACOB   DOLSON   COX 

custom  to  join  one  of  his  sons  in  cruising  in  the  Gulf 
of  Maine,  with  headquarters  at  Magnolia,  Mass., 
and  in  that  place  he  died  after  a  brief  weakness  on 
August  4. 

We  have  purposely,  in  these  "strenuous"  days, 
begun  our  notice  of  a  truly  noble  man  and  rare 
American  at  a  point  unrelated  to  his  military  career, 
which,  with  his  various  writings,  will  chiefly  cause 
him  to  be  remembered  by  posterity.  He  was,  how 
ever,  one  of  the  first  to  raise  troops  and  take  command 
in  the  Civil  War,  passing  (after  distinguished  action 
on  many  fields  from  West  Virginia  to  Maryland,  Ten 
nessee,  and  North  Carolina)  from  a  brigadier-general 
ship  to  a  major-generalship,  in  which  capacity  he 
earned  the  honors  of  the  stubborn  contest  with  Hood 
at  Franklin.  Of  the  war  he  became  an  historian  in 
his  monographs  on  "Atlanta,"  "The  March  to  the 
Sea,"  "  The  Second  Battle  of  Bull  Run,  as  Connected 
with  the  Fitz- John  Porter  Case,"  "  The  Battle  of 
Franklin,"  and  finally  in  the  memoirs  already  re 
ferred  to,  of  which  he  was  reading  the  proofs  when 
stricken  down.  He  had  been  for  many  years,  and 
to  the  very  last,  the  military  critic  of  books  for  the 
Nation  and  the  Evening  Post,  and  after  the  death  of 
John  C.  Ropes  he  was  easily  the  highest  authority 
with  reference  to  the  events  and  the  strategy  of  the 
Civil  War.  He  wrote  with  great  fluency,  seldom 
amending  his  proofs,  and  maintained  to  the  end  the 
215 


JACOB   DOLSON  COX 

vigor  of  thought  and  expression  which  marked  his 
prime.  His  fairness  was  remarkable  for  a  nature  so 
hearty  as  to  be  almost  fervid.  If  his  judgment  of 
Fitz-John  Porter  seems  unwarranted,  or  at  least  not 
that  which  will  finally  prevail,  his  admiration  for 
Grant  as  a  soldier  was  unimpaired  by  his  experience 
with  him  as  a  politician-ridden  President.  For  Sher 
man,  too,  he  had  a  high  regard,  in  spite  of  a  certain 
brusqueness  towards  subordinates;  for,  as  General 
Cox  used  to  remark,  when  the  fight  was  raging  no 
man  could  be  more  Chesterfield ian,  and  he  con 
cluded  that,  on  the  whole,  he  should  prefer,  of  all 
commanders  he  had  known,  to  serve  again  under 
Sherman. 

General  Cox  did  not  go  with  his  party  the  full 
length  of  its  opposition  to  President  Johnson,  and 
this  contributed  in  some  measure  to  his  dropping  out 
of  local  politics  in  Ohio.  He  had  a  dread  of  negro 
suffrage,  or  rather  he  had  a  strong  desire  that  the 
white  race  should  shape  the  destiny  of  the  country. 
No  more  than  others  who  have  essayed  it  could  he 
suggest  a  solution  of  the  reconstruction  problem 
wiser  or  more  stable  than  that  adopted  by  Congress. 
In  1865  he  proposed  a  scheme  of  segregation,  but  it 
found  no  echo.  He  witnessed  with  satisfaction  the 
downfall  of  the  carpet-bag  regime,  to  which  President 
Hayes  gave  the  coup  de  grace  that  President  Grant 
forbore  to  deal,  though  seeing  it  to  be  inevitable.  He 
216 


JACOB   DOLSON  COX 

knew  that  through  or  over  existing  forms  the  wealth, 
intelligence,  and  force  of  character  of  the  South  would 
assert  itself  and  regain  control  of  the  government. 
The  extent  to  which  this  process  has  actually  gone 
on,  with  the  growth  of  lynching  and  political  terror 
ism  such  as  shocks  us  to-day,  could  but  seem  to 
him  deplorable. 

The  distinction  of  Oberlin  College  was  that  it 
welcomed  not  only  female  students  —  a  prime  inno 
vation —  but  colored.  Of  such  an  institution  Gen 
eral  Cox  was  proud  to  be  both  an  alumnus  and  lat 
terly  a  trustee.  He  married  a  daughter  of  President 
Finney,  once  famous  as  a  revivalist  preacher,  and 
made  his  last  home  in  a  spot  endeared  to  both  by 
the  tenderest  associations.  His  father  was  a  mas 
ter-builder,  whose  home  sometimes  accompanied  his 
contracts,  and  was  actually  in  Montreal  when  the 
future  General  Cox  was  born  on  October  27,  1828. 
Mechanical  aptitude  "ran  in  the  family,"  and  pro 
duced  among  the  numerous  brothers  a  turbine  wheel 
on  which  great  expectations,  not  realized,  were 
based.  General  Cox  was  devoted  to  the  microscope, 
and  among  his  other  diversions  was  a  thorough  study 
of  the  cathedrals  of  Europe.  He  was  the  father  of 
Kenyon  Cox,  the  well-known  artist  and  art  critic.  A 
daughter  married  a  son  of  General  Pope. 

We  should  do  ourselves  injustice  if  we  withheld 
from  this  imperfect  tribute  to  General  Cox  the  note 
217 


JACOB   DOLSON   COX 

of  personal  bereavement.  For  a  generation  we  have 
enjoyed  with  him  an  intimacy  characterized  by  utter 
frankness  and  entire  mutual  esteem  through  all 
vicissitudes  of  opinion;  enlivened  by  constant  inter 
course  by  letter,  in  connection  with  that  attached 
and  cordial  collaboration  which  has  lent  so  much 
weight  to  the  reviews  of  this  journal ;  and  refreshed 
by  visits,  "  alas  !  too  few,"  in  his  annual  east-westward 
journey.  In  a  time  of  decadence  wre  feel  keenly  the 
loss  of  one  who  threw  all  his  weight  in  the  scale  of 
that  elder  Americanism  which,  to  look  only  at  his 
own  State,  has  undergone  so  woeful  a  substitution 
—  for  Chase,  and  Giddings,  and  Wade,  for  Hayes 
and  Garfield,  of  Grosvenor  and  Foraker,  of  McKin- 
ley  and  Hanna. 


SAMUEL  E.   SEWALL1 

BY  his  first  name,  the  subject  of  this  brief  biogra 
phy  proclaimed  himself  a  descendant  of  Chief  Jus 
tice  Samuel  Sewall,  of  honored  memory.  His  mid 
dle  name,  Edmund,  as  unmistakably  betrayed  his 
Quincy  blood.  His  cousin,  Samuel  Joseph  May,  bore 
two  Sewall  names.  Through  Elizabeth  Walley  (Mrs. 
Tiffany  does  not  mention  the  interesting  fact)  Mr. 
Sewall's  line  blended  with  that  of  Wendell  Phillips. 
The  part  played  by  these  Boston  kinsmen  —  Sewall, 
May,  Phillips,  and  Edmund  Quincy  —  in  the  small 
beginnings  of  the  anti-slavery  enterprise,  and  in  its 
subsequent  mighty  propaganda  to  the  end,  is  known 
to  all  readers  of  the  Life  of  Garrison.  Mr.  Sewall 
was  the  least  conspicuous  of  the  four  admirable  and 
gifted  spirits,  and  was  the  shyest  and  most  shrink 
ing  ;  but  the  great  orator  had  not  more  fire,  nor  Gar 
rison  himself  more  constancy,  while  his  liberality 
was  as  judicious  as  it  was  incessant.  As  a  lawyer  of 
high  standing  he  rendered  peculiar  services  to  the 
cause  in  drafting  anti-slavery  measures  or  in  helping 
rescue  the  fugitive;  and  this  professional  talent  he 

1  Samuel  E.  Sevmll :  A  Memoir.  By  Nina  Moore  Tiffany. 
Boston,  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  1898.  From  the  Nation,  De 
cember  8,  1898,  vol.  67,  p.  434. 

219 


SAMUEL   E.  SEWALL 

concurrently  applied  to  the  amelioration  of  the  laws 
affecting  the  status  of  women. 

If  Mr.  Sewall  inherited  from  Anne  Bradstreet  his 
disposition  to  poetize  (privately),  so  that  his  first  wTife 
could  address  him  as  "Dearest  and  best  beloved  of 
poets  " ;  and  from  the  Chief  Justice,  author  of  "  The 
Selling  of  Joseph,"  his  anti-slavery  instinct  and  man 
date,  he  borrowed  nothing  of  Samuel  Sewall  the 
diarist.  Mrs.  Tiffany  has  found  her  material  but 
scanty  —  no  great  store  of  letters  even ;  and  her  ad 
ditions  to  wrhat  was  already  accessible  in  print  are 
chiefly  in  the  province  of  the  rights,  not  of  man,  but 
of  woman.  She  enables  one  to  comprehend,  however, 
the  mixture  of  radicalism  and  conservatism,  modesty 
and  courage,  womanly  tenderness  and  manly  initia 
tive,  censure  and  toleration,  which  marked  this 
genuine  philanthropist.  The  last-named  quality  is 
nowhere  better  showrn  than  in  his  relations  to  Mr. 
Garrison.  To  the  founding  and  early  support  of  the 
Liberator  Mr.  Sewall  was  indispensable;  yet  he  dis 
liked  the  name  of  the  paper,  and  (as  his  biographer 
would  have  done  well  to  remind  her  readers)  pro 
posed  for  it  the  Safety-Lamp.  In  the  organization 
of  the  first  immediate-abolition  society,  Mr.  Sewall 
shrank  from  the  doctrine  which  was  to  distinguish 
sharply  the  new  from  the  older  and  ineffective  move 
ments.  He  was  on  the  committee  writh  Garrison  to 
draft  its  constitution,  and  his  Aunt  Robie  reported 
220 


SAMUEL   E.  SEWALL 

that  "Mr.  Garrison  troubles  them  considerably,  he 
is  so  furious."  Mr.  Sewall  would  not  sign  the  pre 
amble  as  agreed  upon,  yet  soon  consented  to  become 
one  of  the  board  of  managers.  This  was  not  fickle 
ness,  but  progress  in  conviction.  Mr.  Garrison's 
method  was  not  his,  but  he  desired  the  same  thing, 
and  he  respected  the  pioneer.  While  he  was  still 
generously  contributing  to  the  support  of  the  Liber 
ator,  and  when  the  paper  was  only  four  months  old, 
he  wrote  (April,  1831)  deploring  the  "violent  and 
abusive  language  which  he  (the  editor)  is  constantly 
pouring  out,  .  .  .  calling  all  slaveholders  thieves 
and  robbers,  declaring  that  no  slaveholder  can  be 
a  Christian,  and  accusing  every  one  who  does  not 
think  exactly  as  he  does  of  wilful  blindness  and  want 
of  principle.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  his  paper  is 
doing  good."  Twenty-nine  years  afterwards,  Mr. 
Sewall  criticised  himself  in  even  stronger  terms  for  a 
speech  made  at  a  Thaddeus  Hyatt  meeting  in  New 
York  in  May,  1860 :  - 

"Though  much  that  I  said  is  omitted  (in  Herald 
and  Tribune],  and  much  inaccurately  and  imper 
fectly  reported,  yet  they  have  taken  pains  to  put  in 
two  blackguardisms  very  exactly,  one  calling  the 
Senate  'a  most  contemptible  body,'  the  other  call 
ing  (Senator)  'Mason  a  wretch.'  These  expres 
sions  slipped  out  by  accident.  I  do  not  believe 
there  is  any  use  in  such  abuse.  More  effect  would 


SAMUEL   E.  SEWALL 

be  given  to  the  same  charges  if  expressed  in  milder 
terms." 

Mr.  Sewall  did  not  share  the  Garrisonian  scruples 
about  political  action  under  a  pro-slavery  Constitu 
tion,  but  neither  did  he  withdraw  his  support  or  name 
or  steadfast  cooperation  from  the  animating  moral 
enterprise.  Still  less  did  he  make  a  fetish  of  party. 
He  lived  to  cast  his  vote  for  Cleveland  against  Blaine, 
and  to  justify  it  in  a  fine  letter  here  reproduced.  He 
was  a  familiar  figure  at  the  State  House  in  Boston, 
where  he  had  been  Senator  in  the  Free-Soil  coalition 
days.  His  last  appearance  there  was  in  the  spring 
of  1888,  when  he  went  before  the  Judiciary  Com 
mittee  with  six  bills  —  to  equalize  the  descent  of 
real  estate  and  of  personal  property  between  husband 
and  wife,  and  the  custody  of  minor  children;  to  legal 
ize  conveyances,  gifts,  and  contracts  between  them; 
to  provide  for  testamentary  guardians  for  wives  as 
wrell  as  widows;  and  to  repeal  the  act  limiting  the 
right  of  married  women  to  dispose  of  real  estate  by 
will.  He  and  his  fellow  petitioners  had  summary 
leave  to  withdraw,  but  the  rebuff  had  no  discourage 
ment  for  him,  whose  heart  was  as  light  as  his  step. 
His  last  wrords  bespoke  his  cheerful  purpose  to  con 
front  the  Legislature  again  with  the  same  measures 
at  their  next  session ;  but  (he  was  in  his  ninetieth 
year)  death  now  gave  him  his  well-earned  leave  to 
withdraw. 

222 


SAMUEL  E.  SEWALL 

This  little  volume  deserves  to  find  a  place  in  every 
public  library  beside  the  kindred  memoirs  of  Phillips 
and  May ;  Quincy  yet  awaits  a  pious  hand.  A  beauti 
ful  portrait  of  Mr.  Sewall  in  his  silvery  old  age  serves 
as  frontispiece. 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION ' 

A  DUTCH  artist  is  said  to  have  taken  a  cow  graz 
ing  in  a  field  as  the  "  fixed  point "  in  his  landscape 
-  with  consequences  to  his  perspective  that  may  be 
imagined.  The  writer  on  the  "  laws  "  of  punctuation 
is  in  much  the  same  predicament.  He  must  begin 
by  admitting  that  no  two  masters  of  the  art  would 
punctuate  the  same  page  in  the  same  way;  that  usage 
varies  with  every  printing-office  and  with  every 
proofreader;  that  as  regards  the  author,  too,  his 
punctuation  is  largely  determined  by  his  style,  or,  in 
other  words,  is  personal  and  individual  —  "  singular, 
and  to  the  humor  of  his  irregular  self."  The  same 
writer  will  tell  you,  further,  that  punctuation  will 
vary  according  as  one  has  in  view  rapidity  and  clear 
ness  of  comprehension,  avoidance  of  fatigue  in  read 
ing  aloud,  or  rhetorical  expression.  Worse  still,  com 
ing  to  the  conventional  signs  which  we  call  points  or 
stops,  he  is  bound  to  acknowledge  that  they  are  very 
largely  interchangeable,  at  the  caprice  of  authors  or 
printers.  Well  may  he  exclaim,  with  Robinson  Cru 
soe,  "  These  considerations  really  put  me  to  a  pause, 
and  to  a  kind  of  a  full  stop." 

It  is  the  paradox  of  the  art,  however,  that  the  more 

1  From  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  August,  1906. 
224 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

these  difficulties  are  faced  and  examined,  the  fuller 
becomes  our  understanding  of  the  principles  which 
do  actually  underlie  the  convention  that  makes  punc 
tuation  correct  or  faulty.  And  in  so  unsystematic  a 
system  the  expositor  has  the  delightful  privilege  of 
flinging  order  to  the  winds,  and  choosing  his  own 
manner  of  development.  He  may  elect  to  dwell  at  the 
outset  on  the  apparent  want  of  rule  and  the  undoubt 
edly  shifting  and  fluctuating  practice.  Take,  for 
example,  the  question  which  nearly  cost  Darwin 
the  friendship  of  Captain  Fitz-Roy  on  the  Beagle :  — 

"I  then  asked  him  whether  he  thought  that  the 
answer  of  slaves  in  the  presence  of  their  master  was 
worth  anything?" 

How  Mr.  Darwin  printed  this  sentence  I  do  not 
know,  but  in  the  printed  volume  of  his  Life  it  ends 
with  an  interrogation  mark.  No  one  can  contest  the 
propriety  of  this.  Nevertheless,  he  might  have  chosen 
to  follow  the  prevailing  custom  with  indirect  ques 
tions  and  end  with  a  period  [was  worth  anything.]. 
Or,  again,  he  might  have  used  an  exclamation  point, 
to  indicate  his  surprise  at  Fitz-Roy's  believing  a  slave 
who  said  he  did  not  wish  to  be  free;  and,  more  than 
surprise,  the  scornful  feeling  that  was  in  his  tone,  for 
he  says  that  he  put  the  question  "perhaps  with  a 
sneer  "  [was  worth  anything  !].  In  this  instance,  the 
period  and  the  interrogation  mark  address  them 
selves  merely  to  the  eye,  as  aids  to  quick  understand- 
225 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

ing.  The  inflection  of  the  voice  for  one  reading  aloud 
would  be  the  same,  whichever  was  employed.  The 
exclamation  point,  on  the  other  hand,  subtly  conveys 
an  emotional,  rhetorical  hint  to  the  reader,  which  puts 
him,  and  enables  him  to  put  his  hearers,  in  sympathy 
with  the  mood  of  the  writer. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Darwin  was  intent  simply  on 
illustrating  Fitz-Roy's  temper,  and  had  no  rhetorical 
designs  whatever  upon  the  reader.  Suppose  the  op 
posite  to  have  been  the  case,  and  that  he  had  preferred 
to  suggest  not  his  own  moral  indignation,  but  the 
sheer  intellectual  absurdity  and  grotesqueness  of  the 
commander's  credulity.  He  might  then,  discarding 
the  exclamation  point,  have  chosen  to  end  his  sen 
tence  with  a  dash  or  double  dash  [was  worth  any 
thing  — —  ].  This  stop  would  have  had  the  value  of 
a  twinkle  of  the  eye,  or  of  a  suppressed  guffaw.  I  do 
not  mean  that  ridicule  is  the  special  and  constant 
function  of  the  final  dash.  What  it  does  is  to  make  an 
abrupt  termination,  leaving  it  to  the  reader's  imagi 
nation  to  guess  what  lies  beyond.  But  the  imagina 
tion  is  really  directed  by  what  has  gone  before.  The 
French  use,  instead  of  the  double  dash,  a  series  of 
dots.  Sterne  is  the  chief  English  writer  who  has  lib 
erally  adopted  this  rather  unsavory  Gallic  applica 
tion,  and  he  substitutes  for  it  on  one  occasion  a  dash 
which  has  neither  a  ludicrous  nor  an  unclean  signifi 
cation,  but  one  quite  solemn.  He  interrupts  the  touch - 
226 


A   DISSOLVING  VIEW   OF  PUNCTUATION 

ing  story  of  Uncle  Toby's  benevolence  to  Lefever 
with  this  finished-unfinished  ejaculation : 

"  That  kind  Being  who  is  a  friend  to  the  friendless, 
shall  recompense  thee  for  this  — —  " 
where  the  dash  has  all  the  effect  of  uplifted  hands 
and  a  benediction,  or  of  tears  that  checked  further 
utterance. 

Already,  then,  from  a  single  example  of  the  inter- 
changeability  of  points,  we  perceive  what  shades  of 
refinement  in  expression  are  possible  to  the  judicious. 
And  since  we  have  mentioned  Sterne,  we  may  ponder 
here  what  he  says  of  the  sentence,  for  its  equal  bearing 
upon  punctuation : 

"  Just  heaven  !  how  does  the  Poco  piu  and  the  Poco 
meno  of  the  Italian  artists  —  the  insensibly  more  or 
less  —  determine  the  precise  line  of  beauty  in  the 
sentence  as  well  as  in  the  statue !  How  do  the  slight 
touches  of  the  chisel,  the  pen,  the  fiddlestick,  et  cetera, 
give  the  true  pleasure !  .  .  .  O  my  countrymen !  be 
nice;  be  cautious  of  your  language;  and  never,  O 
never!  let  it  be  forgotten  upon  what  small  particles 
your  eloquence  and  your  fame  depend." 

In  quainter  fashion,  Emily  Dickinson  wrote  to  a 
correspondent :  "  What  a  hazard  an  accent  is !  When 
I  think  of  the  hearts  it  has  scuttled  or  sunk,  I  al 
most  fear  to  lift  my  hand  to  so  much  as  a  punctu 
ation." 

A  British  organ  of  the  book-trade  heads  thus  an 
227 


A   DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF   PUNCTUATION 

illustration  of  the  working  of  the  Bankruptcy  Act 
of  1883: 

ANOTHER  SATISFACTORY   SETTLEMENT? 

The  use  of  "satisfactory"  is  here  clearly  satirical, 
as  is  meant  to  be  intimated  by  the  interrogation 
mark.  As  a  jester  with  a  sober  face,  the  writer  might 
have  contented  himself  with  a  period  [satisfactory 
settlement.];  or,  with  more  feeling,  he  might  have 
used  the  explosive  exclamation  point  [satisfactory 
settlement!];  or,  again,  he  might  have  ended  with 
the  period  while  inserting  immediately  after  the 
word  "satisfactory"  either  of  the  other  two  points, 
in  parenthesis  [satisfactory  (?)  settlement,  satisfac 
tory  (!)  settlement],  or  resorting  to  quotation  marks 
["satisfactory"  settlement]. 

Next,  two  sentences  out  of  Ruskin : 
"You  think  I  am  going  into  wild  hyperbole?" 
"  But,  at  least,  if  the  Greeks  do  not  give  character, 
they  give  ideal  beauty?" 

Here  the  form  is  affirmative,  but  there  is  a  sup 
pressed  inquiry  —  "  You  think,  do  you  ?  "  "  They 
give,  do  they  not  ?  "  —  and  this  justifies  the  interroga 
tion  mark.  The  affirmative  interrogation  is  abun 
dantly  exemplified  in  Jowett's  translation  of  Plato's 
Dialogues,  being  skilfully  employed  to  vary  the 
monotony  of  the  catechism;  as  in  the  case  of  this 
sentence  from  the  "  Charmides  "  : 
228 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

"Then  temperance,  I  said,  will  not  be  doing  one's 
own  business ;  at  least  not  in  this  way,  or  not  doing 
these  sort  of  things?" 

So  Dickens  writes  inquiringly  to  Forster  concerning 
a  projected  novel : 

"  The  name  is '  Great  Expectations.'  I  think  a  good 
name?" 

Dr.  Bradley,  the  Oxford  Professor  of  Poetry,  com 
menting  on  "In  Meinoriam,"  says  there  are  frequent 
instances  in  it  and  in  Tennyson's  other  works  of  de 
fective  punctuation,  "and,  in  particular,  of  a  defec 
tive  use  of  the  note  of  interrogation."  And  shall  we 
not  here  make  a  little  digression  to  accuse  poets  in 
general  of  neglect  of  pointing  ?  A  stanza  of  Whittier's 
"  Psean  "  was  thus  maltreated  in  the  Osgood  edition 
of  1870  —  that  is,  in  the  author's  lifetime : 

Troop  after  troop  their  line  forsakes ; 

With  peace-white  banners  waving  free, 
And  from  our  own  the  glad  shout  breaks, 

Of  Freedom  and  Fraternity! 

Every  one  of  the  first  three  lines  is  grossly  mispointed. 
Read: 

Troop  after  troop  their  line  forsakes, 

With  peace-white  banners  waving  free  ; 
And  from  our  own  the  glad  shout  breaks 

Of  Freedom  and  Fraternity ! 
•/ 
Better  than  such  obstructions  to  the  sense  would 

it  have  been  if  these  lines  had  been  left  wholly  un- 
229 


A  DISSOLVING   VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

punctuated.  In  fact,  a  good  deal  of  simple  verse, 
devoid  of  enjambement,  might  dispense  wholly  with 
points  without  great  loss.  The  opening  lines  of  Gray's 
"Elegy,"  or  of  Emerson's  "Concord  Monument," 
would  suffer  little  in  intelligibility  if  printed  thus : 

The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day 
The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea 

The  ploughman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 

By  the  rude  bridge  that  arched  the  flood 

Their  flag  to  April's  breeze  unfurled 
Here  once  the  embattled  farmers  stood 

And  fired  the  shot  heard  round  the  world. 

The  early  scribes,  by  a  system  known  as  stichometry, 
attained  the  ends  of  punctuation  by  chopping  up  the 
text  into  lines  accommodated  to  the  sense.  And  in 
our  modern  practice  a  stop  is  often  omissible  at  the 
end  of  a  line  because  of  the  break,  whereas  it  would 
be  essential  to  clearness  if  the  final  word  of  one  line 
and  the  first  of  the  succeeding  stood  close  together. 
Macaulay,  writing  of  Pitt,  says : 

"  Widely  as  the  taint  of  corruption  had  spread    his 
hands  were  clean." 
Had  the  line  broken  thus  — 

"  Widely  as  the  taint  of  corruption  had  |  spread  his 
hands  were  clean," 

to  omit  the  comma  after  "  spread  "  would  have  made 
his  hands  seem  the  object  of  the  verb. 
230 


A  DISSOLVING   VIEW   OF   PUNCTUATION 

Division  into  lines  is  what  makes  poetry  in  most 
languages  easier  for  the  beginner  than  prose;  and 
another  result  is  that  the  punctuation  of  poetry  is 
more  disregarded  by  writers  themselves  than  that  of 
prose,  though  nowhere  are  there  such  opportunities 
as  in  verse  for  elegant  and  subtle  pointing. 

The  exclamation  point,  which  disputes  a  place 
with  the  interrogation  mark  and  the  period,  is  in  turn 
contested  by  other  stops.  It  has  a  peculiar  function  in 
apostrophizing,  and  the  poets  avail  themselves  of  it 
freely. 

O  Lady !  we  receive  but  what  we  give, 

writes  Coleridge  in  his  ode  "  Dejection  " ;  yet  in  the 
same  poem  we  encounter : 

Thou  Wind,  that  ravest  without. 

Mad  Lutanist !  who,  in  this  month  of  showers 

Thou  Actor,  perfect  in  all  tragic  sounds! 
Thou  mighty  Poet,  e'en  to  frenzy  bold! 

The  comma  in  the  last  two  lines  is  to  be  approved 
because  of  the  exclamation  point  at  the  end  and  the 
desirability  of  husbanding  stress.  But  the  following 
quotations,  from  Byron,  Clough,  and  Wordsworth 
respectively,  show  that  the  comma  need  not  apologize 
for  itself,  and  that  the  apostrophic  usage  is  divided 
ad  libitum: 

Fond  hope  of  many  generations,  art  thou  dead  ? 
231 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF   PUNCTUATION 

What  voice  did  on  my  spirit  fall, 
Peschiera,  when  thy  bridge  I  crost? 

Ye  blessed  Creatures,  I  have  heard  the  call. 

The  approved  German  practice  is  to  put  an  ex 
clamation  point  after  Dear  Sir  (or  Friend)  at  the 
beginning  of  a  letter,  and  it  was  not  unknown  to 
our  forefathers  in  their  private  correspondence ;  but 
convention  now  forbids  it  in  English,  and  we  use 
either  the  colon  or  the  dash  —  the  latter  chiefly  when 
the  line  runs  on  continuously  after  it.  In  friendly 
expostulation,  however,  as,  "My  dear  sir!  consider 
what  you  are  saying ! "  the  exclamation  point  reasserts 
itself. 

The  colon  and  the  dash  have  many  functions  in 
common.  Either  may  be  used  before  a  quoted  pas 
sage  —  and  so  may  the  comma,  but  preferably  before 
a  short  quotation.  From  Coleridge  again : 

"  Up  starts  the  democrat :  '  May  all  fools  be  guil- 
loteened,  and  then  you  will  be  the  first!" 

"Now  I  know,  my  gentle  friend,  what  you  are 
murmuring  to  yourself—  'This  is  so  like  him!"! 

Colon  and  dash  may  be  indifferently  used  wherever 
"namely"  or  "to  wit"  is  to  be  understood,  or  even 
where  it  is  expressed ;  but  then  the  comma  is  more 
apt  to  be  employed  than  either. 

"  What  is  stupidly  said  of  Shakspere  is  really  true 
and  appropriate  of  Chapman  :  mighty  faults  counter 
poised  by  mighty  beauties." 
232 


A  DISSOLVING   VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

"  The  Government  called  you  hither ;  the  constitu 
tion  thereof  being  limited  so  "—a  Single  Person  and 
a  Parliament." 

"He  abandoned  the  proud  position  of  the  victori 
ous  general  to  exchange  it  for  the  most  painful  posi 
tion  which  a  human  being  can  occupy,  viz.,  the 
management  of  the  affairs  of  a  great  nation  with  in 
sufficient  mental  gifts  and  inadequate  knowledge." 

In  English  prose  the  colon  has  rarely  a  parentheti 
cal  function.  Dickens,  however,  made  free  use  of  it 
in  this  capacity,  as  one  may  see  in  "Dombey  and 
Son."  Here  is  an  extract  from  a  review  in  the  London 
Athenceum,  in  which  the  Latin  proverb  is  enclosed 
by  colons :  — 

"In  examining  works  which  cover  so  vast  a  field, 
it  is  not  difficult  to  detect  here  and  there  an  omission 
or  a  slip  of  the  pen  :  facile  est  inventis  addere  :  but  in 
the  present  case  one  has  to  resort  to  a  powerful  mag- 
nifying-glass  to  discover  points  deserving  censure." 

In  verse,  Clough's  "  Qua  cursum  ventus  "  furnishes 
a  fine  instance : 

As  ships,  becalmed  at  eve,  that  lay 
With  canvas  drooping,  side  by  side, 

Two  towers  of  sail  at  dawn  of  day 

Are  scarce,  long  leagues  apart,  descried : 

When  fell  the  night,  upsprung  the  breeze, 
And  all  the  darkling  hours  they  plied, 

Nor  dreamt  but  each  the  self-same  seas 
By  each  was  cleaving,  side  by  side  : 
233 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

E'en  so  —  but  why  the  tale  reveal 

Of  those  whom,  year  by  year  unchanged, 

Brief  absence  joined  anew  to  feel, 
Astounded,  soul  from  soul  estranged? 

The  second  stanza  is  purely  parenthetical,  and  it 
might  equally  well,  if  less  elegantly,  be  pointed  with 
parentheses,  a  semicolon  replacing  the  colon : 

Are  scarce,  long  leagues  apart,  descried ; 
(When  fell  the  night,  upsprung  the  breeze, 

By  each  was  cleaving,  side  by  side  ;) 

It  is  rather  the  comma  and  the  dash  which  com 
pete  writh  the  marks  of  parenthesis.  Thus,  Fenimore 
Cooper  writes,  in  his  "  Mohicans  "  : 

"The  suddenness  and  the  nature  of  the  surprise 
had  nearly  proved  too  much  for™1™  we  will  not  say  the 
philosophy,  but  for  the  faith  and  resolution  of  David." 

This  might  justifiably  have  been  pointed  as  follows  : 
[too  much  for  (we  will  not  say  the  philosophy,  but 
for)  the  faith  and  resolution  of  David]. 

Dash,  comma,  and  parenthesis  have  equal  title  to 
employment  in  this  sentence  of  Thackeray's : 

"  If  that  theory  be  ^™  and  I  have  no  doubt  it  is  — 
the  right  and  safe  one." 

"  If  that  theory  be,  and  I  have  no  doubt  it  is," 

"If  that  theory  be  (and  I  have  no  doubt  it  is)" 

A  frequent  old-fashioned  usage  is  exemplified  in 
Coleridge's  — 

"  Whatever  beauty  (thought  I)  may  be  before  the 
234 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

poet's  eye  at  present,  it  must  certainly  be  of  his  own 
creation." 

This  has  pretty  much  given  way  to  the  comma : 
[Whatever  beauty,  thought  I,  may  be,  etc.]. 

The  parenthesis  usefully  replaces  the  comma  when 
greater  perspicuity  is  thereby  attainable,  as  in  this 
quotation  from  a  newspaper  of  the  day: 

"You  have  not  undertaken  any  better  or  more 
important  work  than  the  defense  of  State  politics, 
which,  of  course,  includes  municipal,  against  na 
tional." 

Here  the  sentence  is  very  much  cut  up  by  commas, 
and,  in  order  to  bring  out  the  antithesis  of  state  and 
national,  a  parenthesis  after  "politics"  and  after 
"  municipal "  effects  a  decided  change  for  the  better : 
[State  politics  (which,  of  course,  includes  municipal) 
against  national].  In  fact,  thus  used,  the  parenthesis 
is  only  a  larger  and  more  striking  comma,  or  a  curved 
"  virgule,"  as  the  slanting  precursor  of  the  comma  was 
called.  In  the  "  prologge  "  to  Tyndale's  first  edition  of 
the  New  Testament,  where  the  virgule  is  the  only 
form  of  comma,  the  opening  sentence  employs  pa 
rentheses  where  we  now  resort  to  commas: 

"I  have  here  translated  (brethern  and  susters 
moost  dere  and  tenderly  beloued  in  Christ)  the  newe 
Testament." 

The  parenthesis  has  been  decried  by  some  literary 
authority,  and  is  rather  under  the  ban  of  poofreaders, 
235 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

but  without  good  reason.  Prejudice  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding,  the  sign  is,  in  any  flexible  system 
of  punctuation,  of  great  utility  in  clearing  up  ob 
scurity  and  coming  to  the  relief  of  the  overworked 
comma,  as  in  the  penultimate  example  above.  It 
needs  no  other  apology. 

While  the  comma,  semicolon,  colon,  dash,  paren 
thesis,  and  period  may  be  termed  "  pauses,"  and  may, 
in  a  rough  way,  be  classified  as  being  longer  or  shorter, 
this  arrangement  helps  but  little  to  determine  the 
proper  occasion  for  the  use  of  each.  In  a  scientific 
and  unimpassioned  style  something  like  a  mathe 
matical  punctuation  is  possible;  but  when  fervor  or 
vivacity  or  personal  idiosyncrasy  of  any  kind  enters 
in,  the  points  become  puppets  to  be  handled  almost 
at  will.  Take  the  line  of  verse  — 

God  never  made  a  tyrant  nor  a  slave. 

The  need  in  it  of  punctuation  other  than  the  final 
period  is  not  obvious ;  but,  in  the  poet's  own  feeling, 
a  comma  was  called  for,  slightly  checking  the  flow, 
thus  — 

God  never  made  a  tyrant,  nor  a  slave. 

By  this  refinement  a  little  more  emphasis  is  bestowed 
on  the  second  member  —  "  nor  a  slave  either,"  as  if 
mankind  were  less  disposed  to  eliminate  slaves  than 
tyrants  from  the  divine  order:  a  state  of  mind  ac 
tually  witnessed  in  this  country  in  1830,  when  the 
236 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

slaveholding  citizens  of  Charleston  celebrated  the 
overthrow  of  Charles  X.  The  emphasis  would,  of 
course,  have  been  heightened  by  employing  a  dash, 
as  — 

God  never  made  a  tyrant  —  nor  a  slave. 

So  Byron,  in  his  "  Isles  of  Greece  " : 

He  served  —  but  served  Polycrates 
(A  tyrant,  but  our  masters  then 
Were  still  at  least  our  countrymen). 

A  comma  [He  served,  but  served  Polycrates]  would 
have  meant,  "that  made  a  difference";  the  dash 
implies,  "  that  made  a  great  deal  of  difference." 

The  semicolon  has  nowadays  a  much  closer  rela 
tion  with  the  comma  than  with  the  colon.  In  the  days 
of  the  scribes,  it  shared  with  the  colon  a  function  now 
confined  to  the  period,  viz.,  of  denoting  a  terminal 
abbreviation  —  sometimes  standing  apart,  as  in 
undiq  ;  (for  undique} ;  sometimes  closely  attached  to 
the  final  letter,  as,  q\  for  que.  The  early  printers  duly 
adopted  this,  with  other  conventions  of  the  manu 
scripts.  When  the  Gothic  letter  was  abandoned  for 
the  Roman,  a  curious  result  ensued  in  the  case  of  the 
abbreviation  of  videlicet  (viz.}.  The  semicolon  was 
detached  from  the  i,  but  no  longer  as  a  point.  It  took 
the  shape  of  the  letter  it  resembled  in  Gothic  script, 
though  not  in  Roman  print,  and  thus  really  gave  a 
twenty-seventh  letter  to  our  alphabet  —  a  pseudo  z. 

237 


A   DISSOLVING   VIEW    OF  PUNCTUATION 

Not  unnaturally,  it  acquired  the  sound  of  z  or  &?.  as 
is  exemplified  in  the  lines  from  "Hudibras": 

That  which  so  oft  by  sundry  writers 
Has  been  applied  t"  almost  all  fighters, 
Move  justly  may  b'  ascribed  to  this 
Than  any  other  warrior,  viz. 

Naturally,  too.  it  ceased  even  to  signify  a  contraction. 
for  our  printers  follow  it  with  a  period  (viz.).  for  that 
purpose:  and  if  the  practice  observed  by  Goetz  of 
Cologne,  of  using  a  zed  for  a  period,  had  prevailed. 
we  might  have  seen  the  odd  form  viz*  arise. 

The  semicolon  is  now  become  a  big  brother  of 
the  comma,  enabling  long  sentences  to  be  subdivided 
with  great  advantage  to  comprehension  and  oral 
delivery.  It  is  of  marked  use  in  categories,  where  the 
comma  would  tend  to  no  little  confusion.  Thus : 

~  He  has  now  begun  the  issue  of  two  remaining 
classes  of  law?  — Private  Laws  ;  and  Resolves,  Or 
ders.  Addresses,  etc." 

—  as  contrasted  with  [Private  Laws,  and  Resolves, 
Orders.  Addresses,  etc.]. 

In  the  following  passage  from  Coleridge  the  semi 
colon  prevents  a  close-knit  paragraph  from  being 
cut  up  by  periods: 

~  Of  dramatic  blank  verse  we  have  many  and 

various   specimens  —  for  example.   Shakspere's   as 

compared  with  Massinger's,  both  excellent  in  their 

kind  ;  of  lyric,  and  of  what  may  be  called  orphic  or 

238 


A   DISSOLVING   VIEW   OF   PUNCTUATION 

philosophic,  blank  verse,  perfect  models  may  be 
found  in  Wordsworth ;  of  colloquial  blank  verac 
there  are  excellent,  though  not  perfect,  examples  in 
Cowper  ;  but  of  epic  blank  verse,  since  Milton,  there 
is  not  one." 

An  extract  from  Thomas  Paine  will  exhibit  several 
substitutions  besides  the  one  we  are  considering: 

"  Our  present  condition  is.  legislation  without 
law  :  wisdom  without  a  plan  ;  a  constitution  without 
a  name :  and .  what  is  strangely  astonishing,  perfect 
independence  contending  for  dependence." 

Here  the  comma  in  place  of  the  semicolon  would 
have  sufficed  throughout  if  that  before  "  legislation  " 
had  been  made  either  colon  or  dash,  and  if  the 
parenthetical  clause  "what  is  strangely  astonishing1* 
had  been  bracketed : 

"  Our  present  condition  is :  legislation  without 
law,  wisdom  without  a  plan,  a  constitution  without 
a  name,  and  (what  is  strangely  astonishing)  perfect 
independence  contending  for  dependence." 

Nor  would  any  obscurity  have  arisen  in  this  extract 
from  Burke  had  the  comma  prevailed :  but  the  semi 
colon  answers  the  purpose  of  emphasizing  the  several 
relative  clauses: 

"  They  think  there  is  nothing  worth  pursuit  but  that 
which  they  can  handle  :  which  they  can  measure  with 
a  two-foot  rule :  which  they  can  tell  upon  ten  fingers." 

Very  frequently  the  semicolon  plays  at  seesaw  with 
239 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

the  dash,  most  familiarly  in  the  case  of  the  hanging 
participial  clause,  as  when  Clarendon  writes : 

"  In  Warwickshire  the  King  had  no  footing  ;  the 
castle  of  Warwick,  the  city  of  Coventry,  and  his  own 
castle  of  Killingworth  being  fortified  against  him  " 

—  where  we  might  point :  [  —  the  castle  of  Warwick 
.  .  .  being  fortified  against  him].  And  again  in  simple 
opposition,  as  of  Knickerbocker: 

"  He  was  a  brisk,  wiry,  waspish  little  old  gentle 
man  ;  such  a  one  as  may  now  and  then  be  seen 
stumping  about  our  city,"  etc. 

—  in  place  of  which  may  be  employed  [  ™~  such  a 
one  as  may  now  and  then  be  seen], 

In  the  third  place,  the  semicolon  may  dispute  the 
dash  before  a  relative  pronoun  when  it  is  desired  to 
mark  the  whole  of  what  precedes  as  the  antecedent, 
instead  of  the  nearest  noun  or  phrase.  Take  this 
stately  period  from  Sir  Thomas  Browne :  — 

"  W7e  present  not  these  as  any  strange  sight  or  spec 
tacle  unknown  to  your  eyes,  who  have  beheld  the  best 
of  urns  and  noblest  variety  of  ashes,  who  are  your 
self  no  slender  master  of  antiquities,  and  can  daily 
command  the  view  of  so  many  imperial  faces ;  which 
raiseth  your  thoughts  unto  old  things  and  considera 
tion  of  times  before  you  when  even  living  men  were 
antiquities,  when  the  living  might  exceed  the  dead, 
and  to  depart  this  world  could  not  properly  be  said  to 
go  unto  the  greater  number." 
240 


A  DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF  PUNCTUATION 

But  it  is  time  to  pause.  Either  some  light  has  been 
shed  on  the  principles  of  punctuation  by  studying  the 
diversity  of  good  usage,  or  else  my  readers  may  envy 
Lord  Timothy  Dexter's,  who  were  bid  to  pepper  and 
salt  as  they  chose.  This  ignoramus,  in  bunching  his 
points  at  the  end  of  his  book,  intimated  two  truths  — 
one,  that  punctuation  is,  to  a  large  extent  at  least, 
a  personal  matter;  the  other  that  punctuation  may 
be  good  without  being  scientific.  By  way  of  illustrat 
ing  the  latter  thesis,  I  will  quote  here  a  passage  from 
Rousseau  on  grammar : 

"Whether  a  given  expression,"  he  says,  "be  or  be 
i\oi  what  is  called  French  or  in  accordance  with  good 
usage,  is  not  the  question.  We  talk  and  write  solely 
with  a  view  to  being  understood.  Provided  we  are 
intelligible,  our  end  is  attained ;  if  we  are  clear,  it  is 
still  better  attained.  Speak  clearly,  then,  to  any  one 
who  understands  French.  Such  is  the  rule,  and  be 
sure  that  if  you  committed  five  thousand  barbarisms 
to  boot,  you  would  none  the  less  have  written  well.  I 
go  further,  and  maintain  that  we  must  sometimes 
be  wilfully  ungrammatical  for  the  sake  of  greater 
lucidity.  In  this,  and  not  in  all  the  pedantry  of 
purism,  consists  the  veritable  art  of  composition." 

So  we  may  say  broadly  of  punctuation  that  if  any 

composition  is  so  pointed  as  to  convey  the  author's 

meaning,  it  is  well  pointed.   If  it  is,  in  addition,  free 

from  all  ambiguity,  it  is  still  better  pointed.    And 

241 


A   DISSOLVING  VIEW  OF   PUNCTUATION 

sometimes  we  must  be  wilfully  ungrammatical  in 
order  to  be  lucid,  as  in  the  following  sentence,  in 
which  the  comma  after  "has,"  though  it  separates 
the  subject  from  the  verb,  tells  us  at  once  that  "  wit 
nesses  "  is  the  verb  and  not  a  noun : 

"  The  rise  of  such  a  society  to  such  power  as  it  now 
has,  witnesses  to  profound  modifications  in  the  pre 
valent  religious  conceptions." 

Likewise  when  we  separate  the  object  from  the 
verb,  as  in  — 

"This,  man  alone  can  accomplish," 
to  show  that  it  is  the  object,  and  not  a  demonstrative 
adjective  qualifying  "man,"  as  in — 

"Even  out  of  that,  mischief  has  grown." 

It  still  remains  possible,  by  a  skilful  combination 
of  conventional  usage  and  natural  selection,  to  endow 
the  text  with  every  aid  to  quick  and  perfect  appre 
hension,  and  to  the  effectiveness  of  the  rhetorical  and 
emotional  aim  of  the  writer.  The  punctuation  then 
leaves  nothing  to  be  desired ;  it  becomes  elegant,  the 
mark  of  a  cultivated  mind.  How  many  graduates  of 
our  colleges,  of  both  sexes,  betray  in  their  manuscripts 
no  evidence  of  their  literary  training!  How  many 
writers  of  learning  and  distinction  need  to  be  edited 
for  the  press  in  the  simple  matter  of  punctuation! 
Our  text-books  are  palpably  at  fault  —  our  elemen 
tary  text-books;  for  the  study  ought  never  to  pass 
beyond  the  grammar  school. 


AUTHORITY  IN  LANGUAGE1 

IN  April  last  the  French  Academy  admitted  to  its 
Dictionary  the  word  chic,  without  hesitation  for  the 
meaning  "improvisation  of  the  artist  who  works 
without  a  model,"  but  only  after  much  discussion 
for  the  sense  "  taste  of  the  day,"  "  caprice  of  fashion." 
If  some  critics  would  have  barred  out  the  word  alto 
gether,  others  complained  that  recognition  came 
tardily.  Chic  (to  which  Littre  was  hospitable  long 
ago,  and  which  Sanders  embraced  in  his  "Verdeut- 
schungsworterbuch "  in  1884)  was,  said  M.  Emile 
Faguet,  slang  of  the  clerks^of  the  Parlement  of  Paris 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  with  a  relation  to  chicane ; 
but  when  it  reappeared  in  the  second  third  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  it  had  in  the  ateliers  a  quite  dif 
ferent  signification,  and  gained  general  acceptance 
as  "  stylish  "  still  later,  between  1850  and  1860.  Now, 
it  is  almost  quite  superseded  by  stranger  forms,  — 
pschutt,  v'lan,  urf,  bath,  chouette,  dans  le  train  (in  the 
swim),  dernier  bateau,  and  our  English  smart.  All 
admit,  however,  that  the  Academy  is  exercising  its 
proper  function  in  fixing  the  limits  of  the  allowable 
in  correct  French. 

This  function  was  invaded  in  a  way,  in  1900,  by 

1  From  the  Nation,  September  4,  1902,  vol.  75,  p.  186. 
243 


AUTHORITY  IN  LANGUAGE 

M.  Georges  Leygues,  Minister  of  Public  Instruction, 
who  was  not  uninfluenced  by  the  agitation  carried  on 
during  the  previous  three  years  by  the  Society  for 
Spelling  Reform.  In  a  decree  issued  on  the  proposal 
of  the  Superior  Council  of  Public  Instruction,  and 
dated  July  31,  1900,  he  prescribed  a  number  of  li 
censes  both  in  spelling  and  in  syntax,  which  exam 
iners  should  tolerate  in  rating  for  certificates ;  for 
example,  in  the  pluralizing  of  certain  adjectives  and 
compound  nouns,  in  hyphenation,  in  the  regimen  of 
the  past  participle,  in  the  use  of  unsupported  ne  after 
certain  comparative  expressions,  etc.,  in  the  placing 
of  adjectives  before  or  after  the  noun  —  matters  on 
which  there  is  considerable  doubt  and  inconsistency 
in  the  prevailing  usage.  The  storm  of  protest  which 
this  decree  evoked  led  M.  Leygues  (who,  the  wits 
declared,  should  begin  by  simplifying  his  own  name 
to  Legue)  to  take  advice  of  the  Academy,  which  re 
ported,  through  M.  Hanotaux,  against  all  the  sub 
stantial  changes  proposed.  M.  Leygues,  in  a  new 
decree,  dated  February  26,  1901,  repudiated  any 
intention  of  attacking  the  purity  of  the  language  or 
the  work  of  grammarians,  and  drew  a  line  (surely 
futile  in  practice)  between  strictness  of  teaching  and 
strictness  of  examination. 

The  subject  has  just  been  reviewed,  in  a  Beilage 
to  the  Programme  of  the  Miilhausen  Gymnasium, 
by  Joseph  Lebierre,  who  is  engaged  upon  an  exten- 
244 


AUTHORITY  IN  LANGUAGE 

sive  work  showing  the  transformation  and  deforma 
tion  of  the  French  language  during  the  past  century. 
He  marshals,  rather  obscurely  because  of  poor  typo 
graphy,  the  arguments  of  the  reformers  and  of  the 
purists,  who  are  not  unevenly  matched  in  learning 
and  reputation.  When  Arsene  Darmesteter  pro 
nounces  French  orthography  the  most  incoherent 
and  complicated  of  modern  spellings,  except  the 
English,  Brunetiere  points  to  the  unrivalled  expan 
sion  of  English  throughout  the  globe  notwithstanding ; 
while  Breal,  far  from  wishing  to  write  farmacie  for 
pharmacie,  fisique  for  physique,  or  to  translate  (as 
the  new  Germans  have  done  under  imperial  guidance) 
such  terms  as  telephone  ("far-speaker"),  advocates 
the  greatest  possible  similarity  in  scientific  and  tech 
nical  terms,  for  the  sake  of  European  solidarity. 
Other  writers  answer  the  solicitude  of  the  reformers 
in  behalf  of  foreigners  as  well  as  of  school-children, 
by  denying  that  there  would  be  any  real  increase  in 
facility  of  acquisition,  whereas  foreigners  already  in 
possession  of  the  tongue  would  be  compelled  to  un 
learn  and  study  anew.  Would  an  Englishman  be 
helped  to  recognize  juger  as  meaning  "judge"  if  it 
were  spelt  jujer,  as  is  proposed,  or  pijon  for  pigeon? 
It  may  be  set  down  for  certain  that  any  general  dis 
figurement  of  the  present  orthography  would  separate 
French  from  English,  which  has  taken  over  so  much 
from  the  French;  and  that  such  typical  changes  as 
245 


AUTHORITY   IN   LANGUAGE 

atension  for  attention  or  aprendre  for  apprendre, 
would  serve  to  make  English  more  a  Latin  tongue  in 
appearance  than  French  itself. 

The  battle  has  raged  hottest,  perhaps,  over  the 
proposed  uniformity  in  the  past  participle  of  active 
verbs,  instead  of  the  actual  concordance  with  the  pre 
ceding  object.  Because  the  regimen  of  couter  is  quite 
without  rule  and  because  the  past  participle  generally 
is  conventionally  constant  or  changeable  in  form, 
there  is  a  desire  to  cut  the  knot  at  once  by  making 
this  participle  invariable.  When,  however,  it  is  used 
adjectively,  a  difficulty  immediately  arises,  for  it  is 
justly  contended  that  gender  neglected  in  the  parti 
ciple  would  tend  to  become  neglected  in  the  adjective, 
and  the  language  would  approach  English  in  the 
absence  of  inflection.  English  influence,  it  may  be, 
is  already  making  the  post-position  of  the  adjective 
less  rigorous  than  formerly,  but  the  other  revolution 
would  be  far  more  sweeping. 

At  this  point  the  poets  take  a  hand  in  the  contro 
versy,  and  make  an  anxious  plea  for  the  integrity  of 
the  mute  e  of  the  feminine  termination.  Without  this 
letter,  reported  M.  Hanotaux,  harmony  and  rhythm 
would  perish  from  French  verse;  and  Larroumet 
declares  that  it  is  "  a  rare  and  precious  resource  of 
classical  prosody,  from  which  the  sixteenth  century 
poets  derived  incomparable  effects  of  tenderness, 
elegance,  and  dreamy  melancholy  " — citing  a  famous 
246 


couplet  from  "  Phedre,"  with  a  Blessee-laissee  rhyme. 
Lacking  the  prolongation  of  the  e  mute,  the  verse 
becomes,  he  says,  "hard  and  dry";  and  he  is  sus 
tained  in  this  by  Legouve.  A  writer  in  the  Temps 
claims  the  mute  e  as  a  peculiar  musical  property  of 
the  French  language,  and  adds  (but  this  is  extremely 
doubtful)  that  "foreign  poets  envy  us  on  account  of 
it."  Nevertheless,  the  strength  of  the  position  lies 
in  the  fact  that  the  abolition  of  the  mute  e  along  with 
other  silent  letters  would  be  the  annihilation  of  a 
shading  of  which  poetry  must  ever  be  jealous.  The 
Journal  des  Debats  rightly  remarked  that  if  the  new 
decree  were  carried  to  the  logical  conclusion  of  the 
reformers,  "every  mode  of  speaking  and  writing 
responsive  to  a  shade  of  thought  —  perhaps  a  very 
subtle  shade  —  would  be  construed  as  indicating 
a  reactionary  state  of  mind."  It  is  in  this  light  that 
must  be  interpreted  a  comment  of  the  Temps  apropos 
of  the  "historic"  argument  for  spelling  f rapper  "fra- 
per,"  oT/emme  "fame"  :  "To  put  the  history  of  the 
language  against  the  rules  of  grammarians  founded 
in  reason  is  to  put  barbarism  against  culture." 

The  dispute  is  not  without  interest  for  the  English- 
speaking  world.  Pure  phonetic  reform  in  spelling 
finds  no  adherents  of  any  consequence  in  France. 
The  risucfs,  who  regard  the  physiognomy  of  words, 
greatly  outnumber  the  auditifs,  who  rely  upon  the 
«ound.  All  the  leading  reformers  want  is  a  gradual 
247 


AUTHORITY   IN   LANGUAGE 

change,  bit  by  bit ;  and  in  the  land  of  centralization 
they  naturally  turn  to  the  Academy  or  to  the  Gov 
ernment  for  the  necessary  authority  —  as  in  Ger 
many  reformers  turn  to  the  Government  alone  —  as 
in  the  United  States  they  turn  to  the  Government 
after  having  failed  to  make  any  serious  impression 
on  authors  or  master  printers.  It  is  only  a  little  while 
ago  that  it  was  sought  in  Congress  to  pass  a  bill 
imposing  the  American  Philological  Association's 
list  of  changes  on  the  Government  Printing-Office ; 
and  there  is  no  telling  when  the  measure  may  be 
brought  up  again.  Only  the  other  day  we  ourselves 
were  offered  a  communication  recommending  that, 
having  the  opportunity  to  fashion  the  unfortunate 
Filipinos  in  our  own  image,  we  should  teach  their 
helpless  children  an  English  orthography  which  does 
not  exist  except  in  the  above  association's  pious  wish 
and  the  actual  practice  (more  or  less  timid  and  par 
tial)  of  its  followers,  largely  librarians  who  shuffle 
off  two  letters  from  catalogue.  All  this  is  of  paltry 
worth  beside  the  freedom  which  is  the  real  genius 
of  the  English  language,  which  enriches  it  from  all 
tongues,  naturalizes  at  once  what  it  borrows,  asks  no 
other  authority  for  what  is  correct  spelling  or  syntax 
than  the  best  usage,  makes  the  historical  Dictionary 
like  the  Oxford  the  mirror  and  monument  of  a  splen 
did  linguistic  development  —  the  record  of  countless 
experiments,  successes,  failures, 
248 


AUTHORITY  IN   LANGUAGE 

Revivals,  too,  of  unexpected  change  ; 

and  has  no  fear  that  the  purity  of  the  English  tongue 
or  the  peculiar  quality  of  English  verse  can  sustain 
any  lasting  injury  from  a  spirit  of  innovation  like 
that  surveyed  by  M.  Lebierre  in  France  for  the  past 
thirty-five  years,  and  ever  at  work  among  ourselves. 


OF  PORTRAITURE1 

ALL  the  arts  employed  in  portraiture  break  down 
somewhere.  Who  can  put  his  finger  infallibly  upon 
the  true  bust  of  Caesar  ?  Is  the  Stratford  bust  or  the 
Droeshout  print  more  like  Shakspere,  or  is  neither 
a  veracious  presentment?  Shall  Houdon,  Peale,  or 
Stuart  fix  for  us  the  lineaments  of  Washington  ?  May 
we  rest  in  Carpenter's  oil  painting  of  Lincoln,  or  in 
Marshall's  engraving,  or  in  Saint-Gaudens's  Chicago 
statue  ?  But  with  Lincoln  we  are  already  in  the 
age  of  the  daguerreotype  and  the  photograph.  Yet 
this  only  increases  our  perplexity,  so  numerous  and 
diverse  are  the  camera's  reports.  Bad  posing  and 
focussing  distort  and  vulgarize;  and  then  the  man 
himself ,  sun-pictured  at  various  ages,  undergoes  great 
changes  of  expression,  takes  on  new  lines  of  care  and 
responsibility  and  sadness,  from  beardless  becomes 
bearded.  In  the  end,  everybody  forms  a  sort  of  com 
posite  image  of  the  great  statesman,  and  selects 
whatever  print  or  photograph  comes  nearest  to  this 
abstraction. 

Photography  from  life  does,  indeed,  enable  us  to 
form  unerring  inferences  about  the  subject's  ap- 

1  From  the  Nation,  November  7,  1904,  vol.  78,  p.  267. 
250 


OF  PORTRAITURE 

pearance,  at  least  in  a  general  way  —  the  fashion  of 
the  hair,  for  one  thing ;  the  size  and  shape  of  the  nose, 
mouth,  and  ears;  the  space  between  the  eyes;  the 
character  of  the  brows;  yet  each  liable  to  correc 
tion  for  untrue  planes,  prints  out  of  focus,  and  the 
maladroitness  or  trick  of  the  printing.  Retouching, 
Rembrandtesque  lighting,  conceal  features  essential 
to  be  known,  or  falsify  the  complexion.  Deliberate 
flattery  is  the  fortune  of  many  a  photographer;  but 
with  the  best  intention  to  be  honest,  he  may  and 
perhaps  must  fall  short  quite  as  often  as  he  produces 
something  authentic.  In  a  rather  extended  compari 
son  of  photographs  submitted  by  candidates  for 
teachers  in  our  public  schools,  when  (we  are  speak 
ing  of  women)  there  is  every  motive  for  heightening 
personal  attractiveness,  we  have  found  the  original 
usually  better  than  her  effigy.  In  fact,  as  was  said 
by  an  old  sea-captain  of  "fast  sailers,"  to  get  ahead 
the  camera  needs  "a  great  deal  of  assistance." 

Perhaps  that  age  is  most  fortunate  when  one 
artistic  memorial  finds  universal  acceptance  with 
contemporaries,  and  determines  the  conception  of 
posterity.  Still,  being  one,  it  must  needs  be  popu 
larized,  and  then  begins  the  divagation  that  lends 
so  much  instructiveness,  through  grave  copying  of 
copies,  to  a  collection  of  portraits  of  any  historical 
personage.  His  admirers  who  buy  for  their  walls  are 
influenced  partly  by  their  ideal,  partly  by  the  art  of 
251 


OF  PORTRAITURE 

the  reproduction,  content  to  have,  if  not  the  real 
hero,  a  worthy  tribute  of  genius  in  whatever  form, 
graphic  or  glyptic. 

Let  us  suppose  that  such  a  collector  or  admirer 
wishes  to  procure  the  genuine  Jean  Jacques  Rous 
seau.  Perplexed  by  the  multitude  of  representations 
—  full-face  and  profile;  bonneted,  peruked,  and 
bare-headed,  —  divisible  under  some  half-dozen 
types, he  seeks  a  clue  to  the  labyrinth.  To  sum  up, he 
finds  the  death-mask  made  by  Houdon,  who  used  it 
for  numerous  busts;  the  pastel  portrait  made  from 
life  in  1753,  by  Maurice  Quentin  de  la  Tour  —  the 
original  now  preserved  in  the  Musee  de  Saint-Quen- 
tin;  the  replica  from  the  same  hand,  made  in  1764 
and  now  in  the  Musee  Rath  at  Geneva;  the  oil  paint 
ing  made  by  Allan  Ramsay  in  London  in  1766,  now 
in  the  National  Gallery  in  Edinburgh.  The  wax 
modcle  in  relief  made  by  Isaac  Grosset  the  elder  at  the 
same  date,  —  who  knows  what  has  become  of  it  ?  It 
is  not  included  in  the  list  of  this  artist's  works  given 
in  the  "Dictionary  of  National  Biography."  These 
are  the  sole  authoritative  standards. 

Confining  ourselves  to  the  two  paintings,  we  re 
mark  that  Ramsa.y's  portrait  begot  grander  and 
finer  engravings  than  La  Tour's.  His  own  country 
was  not  unmindful  of  the  prophet,  but  Rousseau  was 
a  veritable  lion  in  England ;  and  whereas  La  Tour's 
work  was  a  labor  of  love,  Ramsay  painted  by  order 
252 


OF   PORTRAITURE 

of  David  Hume,  and  the  two  engravings  then  and 
there  made  after  him,  by  David  Martin  and  by 
Richard  Purcell  (alias  "C.  Corbutt")  —  the  latter 
reversed  —  are  superb  folio  mezzotints.  Comparable 
in  scale,  if  somewhat  coarse  in  execution,  is  J.  B. 
Nochez's  line  engraving  after  Martin,  published  in 
Paris  in  1769.  In  the  case  of  La  Tour,  the  first  en 
graving  appears  to  be  L.  J.  Cathelin's  (1763),  bear 
ing  no  name,  but  only  Rousseau's  device,  Vitam 
impendere  vero,  in  accordance  with  his  authorization 
of  July  21,  1762,  to  the  Marechale  de  Luxembourg, 
then  the  owner  of  the  pastel  of  1753.  (The  fine  en 
graving  by  Augustin  de  Saint-Aubin  from  the  same 
portrait  is  reversed.)  So  far  so  good;  and  now  we 
may  choose  between  the  La  Tour  in  French  fashion 
able  costume  and  Ramsay  in  Armenian  bonnet  and 
fur-bordered  cloak.  Which  is  the  real  Rousseau  ? 
Either,  one  might  respond ;  in  spite  of  a  difference 
so  great  that  they  never  would  be  suspected  to  stand 
for  the  same  man  —  for  they  were  taken  thirteen 
years  apart,  or  between  the  time  when  the  Citizen 
of  Geneva  was  delighting  the  Court  with  his  opera, 
"Le  Devin  du  Village,"  and  the  time  when,  having 
renounced  that  citizenship  upon  the  public  burning 
of  his  "  Emile  "  in  his  native  place  as  well  as  in  Paris, 
he  began  his  long  wanderings,  haunted  by  the  mono 
mania  of  a  universal  conspiracy  against  him. 

A  man's  opinion  of  his  own  portrait  is  proverbially 
253 


OF   PORTRAITURE 

discredited.  In  this  case  we  cannot  tolerate  "Rous 
seau  juge  de  Jean-Jacques,"  as  in  his  famous  Dia 
logues.  He  has  a  pronounced  predilection  for  La 
Tour's  portrait  of  him.  It  has,  in  fact,  a  smiling 
expression  not  "  touching,"  as  Bernardin  de  Saint- 
Pierre  found  it,  yet  with  the  "  je  ne  sais  quoi  d'aima- 
ble,  de  fin."  Diderot,  who  viewed  it  in  the  Salon 
of  1753,  thought  La  Tour  (a  wonderful  technician, 
in  his  opinion)  to  have  made  rather  a  pretty  thing 
than  a  masterpiece;  and  criticised  the  dress  of  the 
courtier,  that  masked  the  author  of  the  Discourse  on 
Inequality,  and  even  the  comfortable  rush-bottomed 
chair  he  was  seated  in  —  clearly  not  the  man  implied 
in  Marmontel's  lines  affixed  to  the  pastel,  "Sages, 
arretez-vous ;  gens  du  monde,  passez."  Ramsay's 
canvas,  to  our  eyes,  conveys  far  more  strikingly  the 
personal  charm  and  the  lively  intellect  of  Jean 
Jacques.  It  shows  also  those  "regards  percants  et 
inquiets,"  that  "ceil  oblique,"  of  the  self -tormentor, 
which  Dusaulx  noticed  in  their  first  interview  three 
years  later.  Rousseau  sitting  for  it  (or  standing  in  a 
constrained  attitude,  if  we  may  believe  his  subse 
quent  account)  found  no  fault  with  it.  He  speaks, 
in  his  letter  to  Du  Peyrou  of  March  29,  1766,  of  the 
"good  painter,"  whose  work  the  King  had  asked  to 
see,  and  which  was  so  much  approved  that  it  was  to 
be  engraved.  Later,  upon  his  breach  with  Hume, 
the  portrait  seemed  a  part  of  the  foul  conspiracy  by 
254 


OF   PORTRAITURE 

which  he  had  been  brought  to  England,  and  he  de 
nounced  it  (but  apparently  upon  the  engravings)  as 
an  attempt  to  make  a  sullen  and  frightful  Cyclops 
of  him. 

Was  Hume  disappointed?  The  first  night  out 
from  Paris,  it  will  be  remembered,  the  poor  French 
man,  sleeping  in  the  same  room  with  his  patron, 
heard  him  cry  out  with  the  ominous  words,  "Je 
tiens  J.-J.  Rousseau!"  Had  he  really  "got"  him, 
with  Ramsay's  aid  ?  We  shall  never  know  how  good 
the  likeness  is.  The  National  Gallery  of  Scotland 
has  "got"  it,  and  our  collector  must  put  up  with  an 
engraving.  Martin's  he  cannot  fail  to  envy  for  its 
art,  but  if  he  compares  it  minutely  with  a  photograph 
direct  from  Ramsay,  he  will  discover  fatal  aberra 
tions,  the  parent  of  countless  others  in  the  long  line  of 
repetitions.  Not  without  reason  did  Rousseau  cen 
sure  it  for  the  eyes,  which  if  not  Cyclopic,  are  larger 
and  more  open,  are  lighter,  and  have  none  of  the 
rather  beady  expression  of  the  painting.  This  change 
carries  the  eyebrows  and  forehead  higher,  affects 
the  width  of  the  head,  alters  the  angular  curve  of 
the  Armenian  bonnet,  thickens  the  upper  lip  of  the 
wonderfully  sensitive  mouth,  and  in  other  ways  de 
parts  from  the  model.  Yet  no  expense  was  spared  to 
command  the  best  talent  for  this  copy. 

Photography,  which  enables  us  to  make  this  dam 
aging  comparison,  also  paves  the  way  for  a  nearer 
255 


OF   PORTRAITURE 

approach  to  a  trustworthy  engraving.  The  defects 
we  have  noticed  may  have  been  those  of  the  draughts 
man  combined  with  the  engraver's.  It  is  now  possible 
to  photograph  upon  the  wood-block,  and  to  have  the 
base  as  true  as  the  camera  can  make  it.  This  has 
actually  been  done  within  the  past  few  weeks  by  the 
indefatigable  Gustav  Kruell,  and  we  are  prepared  to 
say  that  here  and  now  for  the  first  time  in  any  country 
has  Ramsay's  portrait  been  engraved  in  a  manner 
to  inspire  confidence,  as  well  as  in  the  highest  style 
of  art.  It  comes  in  good  time,  for  in  1912  the  world 
will  be  celebrating  the  two  hundredth  anniversary  of 
the  birth  of  Rousseau. 


JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU1 

THE  "  new  criticism  "  displayed  in  these  needlessly 
bulky  volumes  turns  out  to  be  an  enlargement  and 
confirmation  of  the  same  author's  contention  in  her 
"Studies  in  the  France  of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau," 
published  in  1895,  from  which  one  whole  chapter  is 
excerpted,  with  modifications,  on  the  subject  of  Rous 
seau's  children  and  his  putting  away  of  them  (1, 140). 
While,  in  the  course  of  her  minute  argument,  she 
touches  almost  every  phase  of  Jean  Jacques's  career, 
but  unevenly,  the  work  is  not  for  those  who  would 
seek  in  it  a  first  acquaintance  with  the  man  whose 
two  hundredth  birth  anniversary  will  be  celebrated 
six  years  hence.  Such  as  are,  on  the  contrary,  already 
more  or  less  familiar  with  his  biography  in  its  broader 
outlines,  will  find  their  profit  in  Mrs.  Macdonald's 
challenge  of  the  defaming  of  Rousseau's  personality 
—  both  among  his  contemporaries  and  by  too  sub 
servient  latter-day  accepters  of  the  legend  invented 
by  them,  notably  Sainte-Beuve,  Saint-Marc  Girardin, 
E.  Scherer,  John  Morley,  and  Percy  and  Maugras. 
It  is  upon  the  decades  1746-66  that  her  searchlight 
is  principally  directed.  In  this  period  were  painted 

1  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  :  A  New  Criticism.    By  Frederika 
Macdonald.     2  vols.    New  York :  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons.    From 
the  Nation,  December  27,  1906,  vol.  83,  p.  556. 
257 


JEAN   JACQUES   ROUSSEAU 

the  only  two  authentic  likenesses  of  her  hero  that 
have  come  down  to  us,  —  the  La  Tour  pastel  of 
1753,  of  which  one  may  see  a  replica  in  the  Musee 
Rath  at  Geneva,  and  the  Ramsay  oil  painting  made 
at  Hume's  instance  in  London  in  1766,  and  now  in 
the  National  Gallery  at  Edinburgh.  In  the  inter 
esting  group  of  portraits  and  views  gathered  in  these 
volumes  we  miss  the  La  Tour,  a  smiling,  affable  face, 
surmounted  by  a  peruke,  a  figure  clothed  in  the  upper 
fashion  of  the  day,  whom  it  is  the  author's  mission  to 
restore  as  essentially  amiable  and  not  misanthropic 
—  least  of  all,  the  ingrate,  the  monster,  the  savage 
of  the  Philosophers  who  secretly  blackened  him  while 
alive,  and  poisoned  public  and  even  scholarly  opinion 
regarding  him  as  soon  as  he  was  in  his  grave  and 
before  his  dreaded  "Confessions"  appeared.  Mrs. 
Macdonald  is  up  to  date  writh  a  photographic  repro 
duction  from  Ramsay's  canvas,  which  she  takes  over 
from  the  current  Annales  of  the  new  Genevan  So- 
ciete  J.-J.  Rousseau,  appending  to  it,  however,  Rous 
seau's  opprobrious  after-judgment  of  it  as  one  more 
proof  of  Hume's  false  friendship  and  malignity.  In 
it,  to  be  sure,  we  no  longer  see  the  world-bright  aspect 
of  the  famous  premiated  author  of  the  "  Discours  sur 
les  Sciences  et  les  Arts,"  the  musician  who  was 
delighting  the  Court  with  his  "Devin  du  Village," 
but  the  outcast  seeking  on  English  soil  a  final  refuge 
from  Continental  persecution,  conscious  of  the  con- 
258 


JEAN   JACQUES  ROUSSEAU 

spiracy  to  hound  and  to  silence  him,  over-suspicious, 
gloomy,  clad  in  Armenian  costume  of  cap  and  gown. 
One  might  fairly  say  that  it  is  the  battle  between 
these  two  portraits  (of  which  Ramsay's  is  undeniably 
the  more  fascinating)  into  which  Mrs.  Macdonald 
plunges  with  an  ardor  that  may  be  thought  needless 
in  our  time,  and  with  a  diligent  pursuit  of  error  and 
falsehood  worthy  of  all  praise.  Her  method  is  to  nail 
every  lie,  principal  or  subsidiary,  as  she  proceeds ;  in 
her  own  words  (11,314) :  "The  method  of  testing  the 
truth  of  this  libel  is  to  state  the  facts,  and  to  give  the 
documents  which  establish  the  truth  of  the  state 
ment."  The  result  is  an  extraordinarily  rich  assort 
ment  of  first-hand  evidence,  most  convenient  to  the 
use  of  the  student,  sometimes  in  translation,  but 
abundantly  in  French,  often  in  both  languages ;  and 
at  times  Mrs.  Macdonald  (as  if  by  an  unconscious 
lapse)  even  connects  in  French  of  her  own  the  pas 
sages  she  is  transcribing  from  the  original.  Is  it,  for 
example,  the  question  whether  Rousseau  committed 
suicide,  by  shooting?  We  have  given  us  in  French 
the  official  reports  to  the  contrary,  at  the  time,  of  the 
autopsy  (by  his  own  desire),  of  the  burial ;  the  touch 
ing  account  of  his  last  days  and  natural  death  by 
M.  le  Begue  de  Presle;  and,  finally,  the  record  of  the 
opening  in  December,  1897,  of  Rousseau's  coffin  in 
the  Pantheon  (along  with  Voltaire's),  which  settled 
forever  the  falsity  of  the  charge  of  suicide.  And  again  : 
259 


JEAN   JACQUES   ROUSSEAU 

the  Annales  having  furnished  fresh  documents  from 
the  jongleur  Tronchin's  papers  regarding  this  "worse 
than  foe,  an  alienated  friend's  "  machinations  against 
Rousseau,  Mrs.  Macdonald  arrays  for  the  first  time 
in  chronological  order  the  letters  between  the  cele 
brated  physician  and  Rousseau  leading  up  to  the 
breach  of  friendship  and  of  correspondence. 

Mrs.  Macdonald  is  entitled  to  all  that  she  claims 
for  herself  in  the  way  of  research.  If  she  sought  vainly 
in  the  Paris  libraries  for  a  copy  of  A.  A.  Barbier's 
alleged  analysis  of  Mme.  d'Epinay's  posthumous 
Memoirs  prior  to  Brunet's  doctoring  of  them  for 
publication,  she  discovered  in  1896  the  Brunet  MS.  in 
the  Bibliotheque  Historique  de  la  Ville  de  Paris  (by 
which  it  was'acquired  at  a  sale  as  late  as  1885),  and 
was  thus  enabled  to  lay  bare  the  whole  history  of  the 
printed  work  which  has  so  imposed  its  authority  on 
the  critics  and  biographers  of  the  past  century.  To 
this  discovery  we  owe  the  genesis  of  the  present  work, 
which  might  fairly  have  been  designated  "  Rousseau 
and  Mme.  d'Epinay";  for  wide  as  are  the  ripples  in 
Mrs.  Macdonald's  pool,  the  Memoirs  are  the  pebble 
from  which  they  all  circle  out.  She  was  led  to  scru 
tinize  anew  the  original  MS.  (of  which  Brunet's  was 
a  fair  copy),  curiously  divided  between  the  Archives 
and  the  Arsenal  Library,  and  styled  in  the  former 
portion  "Lettres  de  Mme.  de  Montbrillant."  She 
was  able  to  identify,  besides  the  hand  of  the  amanu- 
260 


JEAN   JACQUES  ROUSSEAU 

ensis,  that  of  Mme.  d'Epinay  herself  under  duress 
and  that  of  Diderot,  who  by  insertions,  interlinea 
tions,  marginal  corrections,  and  especially  by  a  se 
ries  of  curt  notes  directing  alterations,  which  were 
slavishly  complied  with,  achieved  a  deeper  denigra 
tion  of  "Rene"  (Rousseau)  in  the  censor's  own  in 
terest.  The  proofs  of  this  tampering  are  afforded  by 
facsimiles  which  leave  no  doubt  on  the  subject,  and 
by  tracing  to  the  Brunet  MS.  (proceeding  from  one 
of  Grimm's  secretaries)  and  the  printed  Memoirs  the 
interpolations  concocted  as  above.  Old  cahiers  of 
what  the  Germans  would  call  an  t/Y-manuscript 
survived  in  sufficient  numbers  to  show  the  patchwork 
process. 

Here  was  Mrs.  Macdonald's  touchstone,  and  she 
applies  it  mercilessly  and  convincingly  to  Brunei's 
conscienceless  product  (which  changed  the  work 
from  its  form  of  a  romance  to  that  of  serious  history, 
and  supplied  the  real  names).  No  one  had  done  this 
before  her,  though  MM.  Percy  and  Maugras  had  the 
chance,  and  lost  it  through  dulness  or  bias.  She  ap 
plies  it  to  Diderot's  "  Tablet "  exhibiting  Rousseau's 
"seven  rascalities,"  all  of  them  embodied  in  the 
D'Epinay  recension.  She  applies  it  with  equal  ef 
fectiveness  to  the  story  of  the  offer  of  the  Hermitage 
—  shown  to  be  not  a  part  of  the  author's  first  narra 
tion  —  and  quotes  copiously  from  the  Memoirs  in 
this  critique.  She  applies  it  to  the  problem  of  the  au- 
261 


JEAN   JACQUES   ROUSSEAU 

thorship  of  the  anonymous  letter  apprising  St. -Lam 
bert  of  Rousseau's  passion  for  his  mistress,  Mme. 
d'Houdetot  (Mme.  d'Epinay's  cousin  and  sister-in- 
law);  to  the  crimes  against  Grimm  with  which 
Rousseau  was  charged ;  to  Diderot's  pseudo-letter 
to  the  latter,  wrhich  Grimm  welcomed  as  a  tidbit  for 
his  Correspondance  Litter  air e,  and  which,  Mrs.  Mac- 
donald  discovers,  was  rejected  by  the  censor  of 
Mme.  d'Epinay's  relation.  She  unmasks  Grimm  in 
his  secret  disfigurement  of  Rousseau  in  the  Corre 
spondance;  among  her  minor  discoveries  being  a  list 
of  paid  subscribers,  in  Grimm's  papers  now  in  the 
Bibliotheque  Nationale.  In  this  section  of  the  nobil 
ity  is  found  Horace  Walpole,  author  of  the  shameless 
forgery  of  a  letter  from  Frederick  II  to  Rousseau 
which  Hume  (whether  or  no  he  had  a  hand  in  it) 
found  a  mere  "  pleasantry "  -  Frederick,  whom 
Grimm  carefully  served  with  the  Correspondance, 
and  (we  have  his  wrord  for  it)  hoped  to  turn  against 
Rousseau  by  his  libels. 

For  Grimm  and  Diderot  Mrs.  Macdonald  has  no 
forgiveness,  and  she  is  right.  Towards  Voltaire  she 
showrs  a  leniency  derivable  from  her  general  admira 
tion  for  this  co-worker  with  the  foregoing,  though 
his  abuse  was  more  obscene  than  theirs,  and  his  for 
geries  worse  than  Walpole's,  and  though  he  stooped 
to  inform  the  Council  of  Geneva  against  Rousseau 
(and  to  deny  the  act),  and  was  not  unjustly  denomi- 
262 


JEAN   JACQUES   ROUSSEAU 

nated  by  his  victim  as  "the  chief  of  my  persecutors." 
The  appendix  note  with  which  Volume  II  concludes 
is  devoted  to  Voltaire,  and  is  among  the  most  inter 
esting  of  all.  In  it  is  cited  an  argumentative  pas 
tiche  of  Rousseau  upon  Voltaire,  as  to  his  intoler 
ance,  fully  equal  in  verisimilitude  and  mordancy  to 
Voltaire's  epigrammatic  tirade  against  Rousseau's 
paradoxes  and  inconsistencies.  Mrs.  Macdonald's 
apology  for  Voltaire  —  virtually  that  he  was  under 
the  deceitful  influence  of  Grimm  and  Diderot  —  is 
substantially  what  she  extends  to  Mine,  d'fipinay, 
finding  her  never  an  enemy  of  Rousseau  who  sought 
to  do  him  harm,  and  essentially  a  good  woman,  in 
spite  of  her  sexual  immorality,  which  was  but  the 
character  of  her  time  and  society.  With  this  view 
we  have  no  disposition  to  quarrel :  indeed,  we  may 
borrow  an  illustration  of  its  justice  from  M.  Philippe 
Godet's  recent  exhaustive  and  absorbing  study  of 
"  Mme.  de  Charriere  et  ses  Amis."  This  brilliant 
Dutchwoman  (who  sat  to  La  Tour  for  her  portrait 
while  Rousseau  was  sitting  to  Ramsay),  when  still 
unmarried,  entertained  a  furious  Platonic  friendship 
and  correspondence  with  Constance  d'Hermenches, 
uncle  of  her  future  lover,  Benjamin  Constant. 
D'Hermenches,  whose  galanteries  were  perfectly 
well  known  to  her,  was  ill  mated  and  chafing  for  di 
vorce  in  the  interest  of  new  amours.  The  lady,  never 
theless,  was  quite  ready  to  marry  him  if  he  were  free. 
263 


JEAN   JACQUES   ROUSSEAU 

On  one  occasion  she  had  to  reprove  him  for  a  piece 
of  petty  domestic  cruelty.  She  could  overlook,  she 
said,  his  infidelities,  as  they  were  inherent  in  the 
frailty  of  human  nature  —  "  but  it  is  so  easy  to  re 
frain  from  beating  your  wife's  dog."  In  truth,  these 
infidelities  spoke  very  little  concerning  the  individual 
character  of  the  man  she  was  censuring,  whereas  the 
incident  selected  was  a  veritable  index  of  it. 

To  return  to  Grimm  &  Co.,  their  very  language, 
faithfully  reported  here,  set  in  comparison  with  Rous 
seau's  meeting  of  their  perfidious  calumnies,  should 
convince  any  one  of  his  self-restraint  and  his  peace- 
loving  and  forgiving  disposition.  Voltaire  shows  even 
worse  by  contrast  to  one  who  ever  remained  his  ad 
mirer  and  contributed  to  his  statue,  and  whose  de 
nunciations  were  moral  judgments,  never  mere  invec 
tive  and  outrage.  Heartless,  indeed,  was  the  spirit 
that  could  write  of  the  poor  fugitive  from  state  to 
state  (II,  341) :  "  Jean-Jacques,  decrete  a  Paris  et  a 
Geneve,  convaincu  qu'un  corps  ne  pent  etre  en  deux 
lieux  a  la  fois,  s'enfuit  dans  un  troisieme."  Let  any 
reader  of  Mrs.  Macdonald  pass  direct  to  the  body  of 
Rousseau's  correspondence  to  satisfy  himself  regard 
ing  the  lovableness  of  the  born  musician,  the  born 
lover  of  nature,  the  amateur  botanist  —  to  mention 
no  other  gentle  traits. 

There  remains  the  vexed  question  of  Rousseau's 
children  sent  to  the  foundling  asylum,  or  "exposed" 
264 


JEAN   JACQUES  ROUSSEAU 

as  Voltaire  and  his  associates  would  have  it.  Mrs. 
Macdonald  tries  hard  not  to  sophisticate  in  her  judg 
ment  of  the  fact,  supposing  it  to  be  true,  or  of  Rous 
seau's  vindication  of  his  unnatural  behavior.  She 
has  claims  to  research  here,  also,  for  she  went  through 
the  carefully  kept  registers  of  the  Enfants-Trouves 
without  finding  any  entry  even  in  the  case  of  the 
first  child,  which  Rousseau  had  provided  with  a 
card  of  recognition.  She  found  a  Rousseau  of  right 
date,  but  not  to  be  considered,  and  she  is  now  in 
clined  to  settle  down  in  the  not  unreasonable  faith  of 
Dr.  J.  Roussel  (chap,  ix  of  John  Grand-Carteret's 
"  J.- J.  Rousseau  juge  par  les  Fran9ais  d'aujour- 
d'hui,"  1890),  that  the  congenital  malady  which  was 
Rousseau's  life-long  torment  and  led  him  to  adopt 
the  Armenian  dress,  was  incompatible  with  procrea 
tion.  Was  he  under  an  illusion  regarding  there  hav 
ing  been  any  births?  This  seems  incredible.  Rous 
seau  steadfastly  maintained  that  he  had  not  left  his 
children  in  the  streets,  but  assumed  full  responsibility 
for  transferring  them  directly  to  the  asylum  through 
the  medium  of  the  midwife,  and  manifested  a  proper 
remorse  for  what  he  considered  a  humane  deed  under 
the  circumstances.  There  remains  another  hypothesis 
suggested  by  an  unsupported  story  (II,  308)  of  his 
having  assured  Moultou,  by  all  that  was  sacred,  that 
he  had  never  had  any  children  —  meaning  that  the 
foundlings  were  bastards,  even  if  before  the  world 
265 


JEAN   JACQUES   ROUSSEAU 

he  accepted  the  role  of  putative  father  ?  The  mystery 
will  never  be  solved.  A  reviewer  in  the  Athenceum 
cites  fidouard  Rod's  revelation  (in  his  "L'AfTaire 
J.-J.  Rousseau")  of  the  discovery  in  the  archives 
of  the  Enfants-Trouves  of  a  notarial  act  in  which, 
two  years  after  Rousseau's  death,  or  in  1780,  the 
widow  Therese  abandoned  her  interest  in  the  profits 
arising  from  the  sale  of  the  folio  collection  of  Rous 
seau's  musical  compositions  ("  Les  Consolations  des 
Miseres  de  ma  Vie,"  Paris,  1781),  for  the  eventual 
benefit  of  the  Enfants-Trouves.  But  had  M.  Rod 
examined  the  "Consolations"  he  would  have  ob 
served  that  the  profits  were  expressly  designated  for 
the  Enfants-Trouves,  with  no  mention  of  Therese, 
who  may  nevertheless  have  been  provided  for,  and 
who  thus  discounted  before  publication  the  benefits 
contemplated  in  her  case.  Had  Mrs.  Macdonald 
done  likewise,  she  could  hardly  have  failed  to  moral 
ize  on  the  list  of  patrons  of  a  work  to  serve  as  a  monu 
ment  to  a  precursor  and  promoter  par  excellence  of 
the  impending  Revolution.  It  begins  with  the  Queen, 
followed  by  Madame,  the  Countess  d'Artois,  the 
Duchess  de  Chartres,  the  Duchess  de  Bourbon,  the 
Princess  de  Lamballe  (of  dreadful  memory);  and 
can  we  believe  our  eyes  when  we  find  among  the 
subscribing  Paris  nobility  and  gentry  the  mocking 
signature  of  "  Grimm  (M.  le  Baron  de),  Ministre 
Plenipotentiaire  de  Saxe-Gotha"? 
266 


JEAN   JACQUES   ROUSSEAU 

It  is  no  fault  of  Mrs.  Macdonald's  if  Rousseau's 
prediction  be  not  verified  :  "  O !  quand  un  jour  le  voile 
sera  tire,  que  la  posterite  m'aimera!  qu'elle  benira 
ma  memoire!"  We  believe  it  will,  and  could  wish 
that  his  admirer  might  have  possessed  greater  lit 
erary  skill,  been  less  prolix  and  repetitious,  less  ex 
asperating  in  her  punctuation,  more  exacting  of  her 
printer  in  the  French  extracts,  more  endowed  with 
typographic  sense,  though  many  will  thank  her  for 
the  bold  body  type,  even  when  long  quotations  de 
manded  a  smaller.  She  has  made  some  slips  in  read 
ing  her  MS.,  some  in  translation.  The  most  impor 
tant  source  she  appears  to  have  neglected  is  Fran9ois 
Meunier's  "Madame  de  Warens  et  J.-J.  Rousseau" 
(1902?),  though  she  has  taken  "Maman's"  portrait 
from  it,  perhaps.  At  page  125  of  Volume  I  she  ac 
cepts  Rousseau's  account  of  "  summer  months  spent 
at  Les  Charmettes,  .  .  .  where  Rousseau  had  only 
the  society  of  the  adored  Mme.  de  Warens  and  the 
companionship  of  his  own  thoughts  and  of  nature." 
M.  Meunier's  researches  tend  to  show  that  "  Maman  " 
made  him  a  convenient  exile  in  that  Elysium,  and 
that  (p.  358)  "1'idylle  des  Charmettes  n'a  jamais 
existe"  except  in  Rousseau's  imagination.  But  this 
has  no  relation  to  Mrs.  Macdonald's  main  purpose. 
Her  work  is  an  honor  to  her  head  and  heart,  and, 
as  a  repository,  is  indispensable  to  every  Rousseau 
library. 


A  TALK  TO  LIBRARIANS1 

SINCE  my  discourse  is  in  the  nature  of  an  apology 
for  being  here  at  all,  perhaps  you  will  pardon  my 
mention  of  a  trade  forced  upon  me,  and  held  in  some 
esteem  by  you,  namely,  that  of  index-maker.  The 
drudgery  has  been  mine  to  index  the  Nation  for  now 
nearly  forty  years,  that  is  to  say,  from  the  very  be 
ginning;  and  I  am  at  this  moment  engaged  upon  the 
seventy-ninth  of  the  series.  Candor  compels  me  to 
add  that  I  once  received  a  wigging  for  my  poor  per 
formance  from  my  cherished  friend,  Cutter,  so  late 
as  his  directorship  of  the  Forbes  Library  in  North 
ampton  ;  but  my  defence  was  ready.  The  Index,  I 
truthfully  explained,  was  designed  for  my  own  con 
venience  in  the  office,  and  if  I  shared  it  with  the  pub 
lic  they  should  accept  it  in  peace  and  thankfulness. 
The  truth  is,  the  execution  depended,  and  still  de 
pends,  on  considerations  partly  personal,  as  relating 
to  an  overworked  man,  and  partly  economic.  Even 
so,  these  Nation  indexes  will  no  doubt  be  my  chief 
monument  of  usefulness;  while  for  mere  craftsman 
ship  I  have  done  something  better  in  numerous  books 

1  Extract  from  an  Address    before  the  New  Jersey  Library 
Association  at  Orange,  N.  J.,  October  19,  1904. 
268 


A  TALK  TO   LIBRARIANS 

to  which  I  have  supplied  the  clues.  Perhaps  in  your 
final  classification  you  will  at  least  give  me  a  place 
beside  my  eccentric  friend,  the  late  William  M. 
Griswold,  whose  disinterested  labors  in  the  indexical 
field  are  at  once  exasperating  and  indispensable. 

A  further  claim  upon  your  hospitality  to-day  is  the 
fact  that  I  am  an  author;  in  other  words,  a  part  of 
the  very  foundation  of  your  professional  existence, 
since  no  books,  no  librarians.  And  you  will  take 
the  more  kindly  to  me  in  view  of  the  philanthropic 
cast  of  your  public  service,  of  those  high  ideals  for 
the  general  elevation  of  the  community  which  the 
associated  librarians  of  America  have  more  and 
more  tended  to  set  above  the  mere  mechanism  of 
their  trust;  for  inheritance  and  fate  have  combined 
to  make  me  a  preacher,  without  robes  or  pulpit.  And 
when  at  times  I  have  been  oppressed  with  a  sense  of 
futile  endeavor  in  addressing  my  own  age  and  gen 
eration;  when  I  have  seen  the  trend  of  my  coun 
trymen  towards  pride,  ambition,  the  love  of  noisy 
display,  the  love  of  conquest,  the  defence  of  war, 
the  contempt  of  what  makes  for  peace,  the  flout 
ing  of  national  creeds  once  held  sacred,  the  lust  of 
gain,  the  permeation  of  our  whole  political  life  by 
the  spirit  of  bribery  and  graft,  then  I  have  said  to 
myself,  Let  us  turn  our  backs  on  those  too  old  to 
unlearn;  let  us  try  to  form  the  infant  mind  and 
conscience  for  nobler  things.  In  this  mood  I  have 
269 


A   TALK   TO   LIBRARIANS 

produced  two  or  three  books  which  some  of  you 
may  have  handled  in  your  children's  department, 
and  to  which  I  like  to  flatter  myself  some  youthful 
reader  will  look  back  as  the  source  of  salutary  in 
spiration  for  right  principle  and  right  conduct,  and 
be  able  to  enumerate  them  among  the  "  Books  that 
have  helped  me." 

When  I  seek  to  make  up  such  a  list  for  myself, 
I  invariably  begin  with  Rousseau's  "  Emile,"  the 
purchase  of  which,  in  connection  with  this  writer's 
complete  works,  was  almost  my  first  step  towards 
accumulating  a  culture  library  —  that  is,  one  got 
together  on  conscious  lines  of  interest,  with  reference 
to  previous  foundation,  and  so,  in  a  way,  representa 
tive  of  my  own  individuality.  The  reading  of  this 
book  I  owed  in  the  first  instance  to  the  Boston  Pub 
lic  Library.  The  knowledge  of  it  I  acquired  in  a 
manner  that  may  be  worth  relating.  Mr.  Darwin,  in 
a  passage  in  his  Autobiography,  speaks  slightingly 
of  lectures,  on  the  ground  that  he  could  have  found 
the  substance  just  as  well  in  books.  The  view  seems 
narrow  for  so  broad  a  mind,  and  overlooks  the  power 
of  personality  to  interest,  to  guide,  to  open  new  vistas 
for  the  intellect  and  the  imagination.  This  was  what 
happened  to  me.  When  Theodore  Parker,  stricken 
with  consumption,  was  obliged  to  resign  his  minis 
terial  charge  in  Boston,  in  1859,  no  successor  was 
thought  of  while  a  chance  of  recovery  remained.  His 
270 


A  TALK  TO   LIBRARIANS 

pulpit,  however,  was  not  closed,  but  was  filled  from 
Sunday  to  Sunday  by  such  teachers,  lay  or  cleri 
cal,  as  approved  themselves  to  his  congregation.  It 
was  my  privilege  to  attend ;  but  also,  such  was  the 
Harvard  College  of  my  day,  I  was  obliged  to  do  so 
to  comply  with  the  college  regulations,  albeit  I  was 
under  my  parents'  roof  and  several  miles  from  Cam 
bridge  and  the  college  grounds. 

Under  these  circumstances  I  listened,  in  1859  or 
1860,  in  the  Boston  Music  Hall,  to  a  lecture  (rather 
than  a  discourse  or  sermon)  by  Adolf  Douai,  author 
of  a  German  Grammar  of  the  time,  which  I  had 
studied.  His  theme  was  Rousseau's  immortal  work 
on  Education,  called  after  the  hero  of  it  (for  it  is  a 
semi-romance)  "Emile."  I  presume  I  had  never 
read  a  line  of  this  author;  it  is  certain  that  the  book 
in  question  was  then  for  the  first  time  brought  to  my 
cognizance,  and  so  effectively  that  I  lost  no  time  in 
procuring  it  from  the  Public  Library,  and  eventually 
counted  it  among  my  most  precious  possessions. 
The  reading  of  it  profoundly  affected  my  mode  and 
habit  of  thought,  and  excited  an  interest  in  the  cause 
of  education  which  years  have  only  confirmed.  All 
my  printed  efforts  in  this  direction  are  traceable  to 
"  Emile,"  or  to  a  book  which  I  might  never  have  been 
induced  to  open  but  for  the  oral  account  of  it  given 
by  Dr.  Douai;  and  which  the  public  library  held 
ready  for  my  hand. 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

Vox  et  proeterea  nihil 


TO 

H.  V. 

Quand  les  maux  ou  les  ans  auront  muri  ce  fruit  ephemere,  nous 
le  laisserons  tomber  sans  murmure ;  et  tout  ce  qu'il  peut  arriver  de 
pis  en  toute  supposition  est  que  nous  cesserons  alors,  moi  d'aimer 
le  bien,  vous  d'en  faire. 

Rousseau  to  Daniel  Roguin,  September  22,  1764. 


"  The  New  Gulliver  "  was  printed  in  1898  by  Mr.  Gar 
rison,  who  explained  the  motif  of  it  in  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Mr.  William  R.  Thayer,  as  follows:  — 

My  little  tract  is  first  of  all  an  evolutionary  spike,  aimed 
at  the  abominable  Calvinistic  theology.  If  we  are  but  the 
highest  outgrowth  of  the  animal  kingdom,  there  is  no  point 
along  the  line  for  the  invention  and  interposition  of  heaven 
(for  reward),  hell  (for  punishment),  or  their  respective 
presiding  deities.  Had  we  remained  speechless  like  the  apes, 
the  Devil  would  have  lost  his  job.  Were  we  all  to  turn 
Shakers,  his  co-partnership  with  the  Almighty  would  have 
to  qualify  itself  as  "  Limited  "  (Gallice,  complet),  for  want 
of  further  material  for  torment  after  the  race  had  volun 
tarily  extinguished  itself.  The  cataclysm  does  that  for  the 
Houyhnhnm  folk.  A  few  Krakatoas  would  do  it  for  us. 

Without  speech,  abstract  thought  can  be  carried  but  a 
little  way,  and  ratiocination  not  far.  Yet  the  glory  of  our 
development  and  differentiation  from  the  beasts  of  the  field 
has  been  used  to  terrify  us  with  vain  misgivings  of  a  world 
to  come,  whereas  we  have  invented  ethics  and  religion  along 
with  our  vocabulary.  It  is  all  of  human  manufacture,  and 
man  may  criticise  his  own  product. 

The  rubbish  cleared  away,  we  are  left  face  to  face  with 
the  old  problems  of  the  meaning  of  life  and  the  possibility 
of  another  existence.  For  one,  I  utterly  refuse  to  waste  my 
time  over  the  former.  Towards  the  latter  I  keep  an  open 
mind  and  have  "  the  will  to  believe,"  and  some  evidences 
drawn  from  the  much  derided  phenomena  of  spiritualism, 
whose  positive  teachings  are  so  valueless.  Above  all,  let 
us  steer  clear  of  superstition,  and  not  be  frightened  by  our 
own  shadows. 

275 


INDICIA 

C'etait  le  temps  ou  le  bimane, 
Vivant  dans  un  champetre  enclos, 
Avail  le  ton,  la  voix,  1'organe, 
Mais  non  les  mots. 

Potvin. 

C'est  a  peu  pres  la  ruse  des  singes  qui,  disent  les  Negres,  ne 
veulent  pas  parler  quoiqu'ils  le  puissent,  de  peur  qu'on  lie  les  fasse 
travailler. 

Rousseau  to  Hume,  March  29,  1766. 

So  truly  as  language  is  what  man  has  made  it,  just  so  truly  man 
is  what  language  has  made  him. 

George  P.  Marsh,  Lectures  on  the  English  Language. 

The  whole  appears  to  resolve  itself  into  this  —  that  Man  is 
originally  a  four-footed  creature,  subject  to  the  same  mischances 
as  the  beasts  of  the  forest. 

Keats,  Letter,  April,  1819. 

I  said  in  mine  heart  it  is  because  of  the  sons  of  men,  that  God 
may  prove  them,  and  that  they  may  see  that  they  themselves  are 
but  as  beasts.  For  that  which  befalleth  the  sons  of  men  befalleth 
beasts ;  even  one  thing  befalleth  them.  As  the  one  dieth,  so  dieth 
the  other;  yea,  they  have  all  one  breath;  and  man  hath  no  pre 
eminence  above  the  beasts :  for  all  is  vanity.  All  go  unto  one  place; 
all  are  of  the  dust,  and  all  turn  to  dust  again.  Who  knoweth  the 
spirit  of  man  whether  it  goeth  upward,  and  the  spirit  of  the  beast 
whether  it  goeth  downward  to  the  earth? 

Ecclesiastes,  iii,  18-21. 

Was  bin  ich,  wenn  ich  nicht  unsterblich  bin  ?    Entweder  un- 
sterblich  oder  weniger  als  Vieh.  —  Eine  Betrachtung  .  .  .  uber 
276 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

den  Zustand  der  Menschen  und  des  Viehes  in  dem  engen  Bezirk 
ihres  Daseyns  auf  der  Welt.   Offenbach  am  Mayn,  1776. 

Eutrapelus.  —  Finge    igitur    animam    hominis    demigrare    in 
corpus  galli  gallinacei;  num  ederet  vocem  quam  nunc  edimus? 
Fabidla.  —  Nequaquam. 

E.  —  Quid  obstaret  ? 

F.  —  Quia  desunt  labra,  dentes  et  lingua  similis :  nee  epiglottis, 
nee  tres  adsunt  cartilagines  a  tribus  motae  musculis,  ad  quos  per 
tinent  nervi  a  cerebro  demissi,  nee  fauces  nee  os  simile. 

E.  —  Quid  si  in  corpus  suis  ? 

F.  —  Grunniret  suillo  more. 

E.  —  Quid  si  in  corpus  cameli  ? 

F.  —  Caneret  ut  canit  camelus. 

E.  —  Quid  si  in  corpus  asini,  quod  evenit  Apuleio  ? 

F.  —  Ruderet,  opinor,  ut  asinus. 

Fabulla.  —  Alioqui  quidquid  adhuc  dixit  [Aristoteles]  de  anima 
hominis,  competit  in  asinum  et  bovem. 

Eutrapelus.  —  Imo  in  scarabeum  quoque  et  limacem. 

F.  —  Quid  igitur  interest  inter  animam  bovis  et  hominis  ? 

E.  —  Qui  dicunt  animam  nihil  aliud  esse  quam  harmoniam 
qualitatum  corporis,  faterentur  non  ita  multum  interesse;  videlicet, 
harmonia  soluta,  perire  animas  utriusque.    Ne  ratione  quidem 
distinguitur  bovis  ab  hominis  anima,  sed  quod  bourn  minus  sapit 
quam  hominum ;  quemadmodum  videre  est  et  homines  qui  minus 
sapiunt  quam  bos. 

F.  —  Nae  isti  bubulam  habent  mentem. 


Eutrapelus.  —  Idem  agit  scarabei  anima  in  suo  corpore.  Nam 
quod  qusedam  aliter  aut  aliud  agit  anima  hominis  quam  scarabei, 
partim  in  causa  est  materia.  Non  canit,  non  loquitur  scarabeus, 
quia  caret  organis  ad  hsec  idoneis. 

Fabulla.  —  Illud  igitur  dicis :  si  anima  scarabei  demigraret  in 
corpus  hominis  idem  ageret  quod  agit  anima  humana. 

Erasmus,  Colloquia :  Puerpera. 
277 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

Negas  tu  quidem,  sed  aliud  dicturi  sint  equi,  si  loqui  liceat. 
Erasmus,  CoUoquia  :  Ilerilia  jussa. 

Goethe  spoke  of  the  Horse  —  how  impressive,  almost  affecting 
it  was  that  an  animal  of  such  qualities  should  stand  obstructed 
so;  its  speech  nothing  but  an  inarticulate  neighing,  its  handiness 
mere  /ioo/iness,  the  fingers  all  constricted,  tied  together,  the  finger 
nails  coagulated  into  a  mere  hoof,  shod  with  iron. 

Carlyle,  Past  and  Present. 

Ye  have  no  more  religion  than  my  horse. 

(Pseudo-)Cromwell  to  Long  Parliament. 

I  think  I  could  turn  and  live  with  animals,  they  are  so  placid  and 

self-contained  .  .  . 

They  do  not  lie  awake  in  the  dark  and  weep  for  their  sins, 
They  do  not  make  me  sick  discussing  their  duty  to  God. 

Walt  Whitman. 


THE   NEW   GULLIVER 

MR.  THEOPHILUS  BROCKLEBANK,  a  graduate  of 
Yale  College  and  later  a  member  of  the  Rocky  Moun 
tain  exploring  party  of  1873,  had  finally  decided  be 
tween  his  predilections  for  science  and  for  linguistics 
in  favor  of  the  latter,  and  betaken  himself  to  Ger 
many,  where  he  zealously  pursued  his  studies  for 
two  years.  At  the  end  of  that  time  his  health  became 
a  concern  which  could  no  longer  be  disregarded, 
and,  his  physician  having  recommended  an  ocean 
voyage, he  embarked  for  the  East  via  the  Suez  Canal. 
On  his  arrival  in  Bombay  in  the  first  week  of 
August,  1876,  he  was  met  by  the  news  of  Stanley's 
appearance  at  Ujiji,  after  a  twelvemonth's  eclipse 
among  the  wjaters  of  the  two  Nyanzas;  and,  obeying 
a  sudden  whim,  and  resisting  the  temptations  which 
India  offered  to  a  student  of  Sanskrit,  he  took  a 
chance  passage  to  Zanzibar  on  a  sailing-vessel  carry 
ing  no  European  except  the  officers  and  part  of  the 
crew.  On  the  twentieth  day  out,  in  the  early  morning, 
a  storm  such  as  the  Indian  Ocean  is  an  adept  in 
breeding  was  encountered,  and  the  solitary  passen 
ger,  climbing,  staggering,  and  tumbling  on  deck,  un 
derstood  at  a  glance  that  death  was  not  far  off.  The 
279 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

ship  lay  almost  on  her  beam  ends,  her  rent  canvas 
flying  in  long  streamers,  and  the  sea  breaking  over 
her  in  fury.  Theophilus  had  no  sooner  taken  in  the 
situation  than  a  wave  heavier  and  more  resistless 
than  the  rest  swept  him  over  the  stern,  and  when  he 
had  risen  to  the  surface  the  ship  was  no  longer  in 
sight.  A  mass  of  floating  stuff  immediately  surrounded 
him,  and  he  was  fortunately  able  to  seize  and  cling 
to  a  spar  which  for  the  moment  assured  his  preser 
vation. 

Brocklebank  was  a  good  swimmer  and  possessed 
a  cool  head,  and  when  the  tempest  had  spent  itself, 
which  it  did  in  a  short  hour,  he  managed  to  get 
astride  the  spar  in  order  to  rest  his  arms  as  well  as 
for  a  wider  prospect.  He  was  not  a  little  cheered  by 
the  unexpected  sight  of  a  low,  sandy  shore,  fringed 
with  woods,  to  the  leeward,  towards  which  repeated 
observation  showed  that  he  was  steadily  drifting. 
He  tried  to  recall  from  the  chart  the  probable  name 
of  the  island  (for  such  he  was  forced  to  regard  it 
from  his  daily  study  of  the  ship's  course),  but  to  no 
purpose.  It  would  have  been  pleasant  to  fancy  it 
Zanzibar,  but  delusive  also,  as  Theophilus  well  knew. 
Still,  whatever  the  land  might  be  called,  it  was  the 
only  hope  of  rescue  from  his  present  predicament. 
As  the  shore  grew  more  distinct,  he  imagined  he  saw 
huts  upon  it,  and  an  animal  moving  rather  rapidly 
along  the  beach;  and  then,  in  the  very  act  of  strain- 
280 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

ing  his  eyes  to  confirm  their  first  report,  he  felt  that 
the  current  had  taken  a  turn  and  was  hurrying  the 
spar  back  out  to  sea. 

Less  than  a  mile  (as  he  judged)  lay  between  him 
and  the  yellow  sands,  and  with  characteristic  deci 
sion  he  resolved  to  swim  it.  So,  casting  off  every 
thing  likely  to  impede  his  progress,  and  sighting  a 
towering  tree  as  his  goal,  he  plunged  in  and  struck 
out,  exerting  himself  only  so  much  as  seemed  neces 
sary  for  headway.  The  effort  was  still  not  inconsid 
erable  for  his  untried  muscles,  and  the  force  of  the 
current  slightly  increased  as  he  neared  the  strand. 
By  degrees  his  strength  began  to  fail  him,  and  his 
heart  also ;  his  endurance  almost  ceased  to  be  volun 
tary,  and  when,  as  the  reward  of  it,  a  thin  line  of 
breakers  alone  remained  to  be  overcome,  he  felt  his 
muscles  and  his  mind  refuse  then'  office  together,  was 
barely  conscious  of  being  seized  firmly  by  the  collar 
of  his  vest  and  pulled  through  the  foaming  waters, 
and  then  swooned  quite  away. 

When  he  awoke,  he  was  lying  at  the  fpot  of  his 
great  tree ;  an  earthen  bowl  of  milk  stood  beside  him, 
and  at  a  little  distance  he  saw,  seated  upon  its 
haunches  and  viewing  him  with  a  respectful  curi 
osity  and  (as  he  thought)  sympathy,  a  dapple-gray 
horse  of  rare  intelligence  of  expression.  That  The- 
ophilus  had  fully  recovered  his  senses  was  evidenced 
by  his  involuntary  exclamation  —  "A  Houyhnhnm ! " 
281 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

At  this  the  attentive  steed  pricked  up  his  ears,  and 
the  mad  fancy  occurred  to  the  shipwrecked  philolo 
gist  that  he  would  put  to  the  test  some  speculations 
in  which  he  had  indulged  at  Berlin,  when  arguing 
with  Professor  Friedrich  Weber  that  the  science  of 
language  should  not  acknowledge  itself  inferior  to 
that  of  anatomy :  that  if  Cuvier  could  reconstruct  an 
animal  from  a  few  bones,  or  from  a  single  one,  a 
Bopp  should  be  able  to  frame  a  grammar  and  even 
a  vocabulary  from  materials  not  less  scanty. 

"  For  example,"  said  Theophilus,  "  Gulliver  has 
left  us  not  more  than  a  dozen  and  a  half  words  of  the 
language  of  the  Houyhnhnms,  yet  I  venture  to  be 
lieve  that  I  can  show  how  their  parts  of  speech  were 
formed  and  inflected,  and  in  what  direction  we  have 
to  look  for  roots  not  indicated  by  Gulliver." 

Any  other  than  a  German  professor  would  have 
stared  at  the  propounder  of  such  a  thesis,  but  Brock- 
lebank  was  encouraged  by  Weber  to  proceed,  and 
the  result  was,  that  he  gave  himself  to  the  task  for  a 
fortnight  .with  consuming  ardor,  and  in  the  end  pro 
duced  roots,  words,  phrases,  a  system  of  syntax 
which  the  good  professor  could  not  call  in  question 
—  though  he  could  not,  with  Gulliver,  discover  in  it 
any  affinity  to  the  High  Dutch  —  and  which  our 
Theophilus  never  dreamed  that  he  should  have  an 
opportunity  of  demonstrating. 

He  now,  not  without  stammering,  and  in  as  great 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

fear  of  faulty  accent  and  grammatical  solecisms  as 
if  he  were  addressing  a  member  of  the  French  Acad 
emy,  began  to  accost  his  preserver;  at  first  with 
thanks,  which  he  instantly  perceived  to  be  compre 
hended,  though,  whether  from  high  breeding  or 
from  sheer  amazement,  the  noble  animal  said  no 
thing  in  response.  It  was  necessary  for  Theophilus 
to  go  further. 

"I  am,"  he  ventured,  "in  the  same  plight  with 
Gulliver—" 

At  the  sound  of  this  name  the  horse  quivered  with 
delight.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  gently  pushed  the  bowl 
of  milk  nearer  to  the  shipwrecked  man,  as  if  begging 
him  to  partake,  and  asked,  speaking  very  slowly  and 
distinctly, 

"  Do  I  see  the  son  of  Gulliver  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Theophilus,  checking  his  amuse 
ment  by  the  thought  that  the  term  of  life  of  a  foreign 
Yahoo  might  well  be  unknown  to  his  interlocutor; 
and  vastly  pleased  withal  that  he  had  indeed  redis 
covered  the  land  of  the  famous  voyager.  "  No,  there 
are  so  many  lives  between  us"  (holding  up  eight 
fingers,  for  he  was  a  little  weak  in  the  Houyhnhnm 
numerals) ;  "  nor  am  I  of  his  countrymen,  though  I 
speak  the  same  language." 

"His  name,"  said  the  dapple-gray,  "has  been 
handed  down  to  us  and  is  known  of  all,  and  it  was 
my  ancestor  who  first  met  and  befriended  him.  His 
283 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

coming  marks  the  greatest  change  in  our  thoughts 
and  beliefs.  We  are  accustomed,  for  certain  pur 
poses,  to  date  before  and  after  Gulliver.  Perhaps 
you  can  tell  us  of  him  ?  " 

"His  fate  is  obscure,"  replied  Theophilus  warily. 
"He  returned  to  England,  his  native  country,  where 
he  lived  to  relate  the  story  of  his  adventures  on  this 
island,  which  was  scoffed  at  as  pure  invention  by 
the  most,  but  which  he  authenticated  by  the  difficulty 
he  found  in  reconciling  himself  to  live  with  his  fellow- 
Yahoos,  even  with  his  own  wife.  Should  I  ever  be 
restored  to  my  native  land  (which  Englishmen  settled), 
I  should  rejoice  to  report  the  progress  you  have  made 
in  the  meantime." 

The  labor  of  putting  these  ideas  in  shape  in  the 
language  of  the  Houyhnhnms  was,  for  Brocklebank, 
almost  as  exhausting  as  his  struggle  with  the  breakers. 
He  took  a  copious  draught  of  milk  and  lay  down, 
while  the  considerate  beast  resumed  his  sitting  pos 
ture  near  him. 

"Rest,  Gulliver,"  he  said.  And  then,  " But  I  must 
no  longer  confound  you.  By  what  name  should  you 
be  called  ?  " 

Brocklebank  found,  to  his  great  satisfaction,  that 
his  surname  gave  the  steed  even  less  trouble  to  pro 
nounce,  after  two  or  three  repetitions,  than  that  of 
Gulliver;  and,  having  expressed  his  desire,  while 
recovering  his  strength,  to  hear  about  the  revolution 
284 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

produced  by  Gulliver's  visit,  he  reclined  at  his  ease 
while  the  dapple-gray  retailed  the  history  of  the 
island  since  the  days  of  good  Queen  Anne.  But,  that 
the  narrative  might  have  a  definite  point  of  depar 
ture  —  "  Gulliver  reported,"  said  Theophilus,  "that, 
shortly  before  he  left  this  country,  your  Grand  Coun 
cil  debated  whether  the  Yahoos  should  be  exter 
minated,  and  were  so  nearly  of  that  mind  that  your 
ancestor  felt  compelled  to  dismiss  Gulliver.  When, 
if  I  may,  I  go  up  with  you  to  the  city,  I  shall  see  with 
my  own  eyes  what  has  become  of  the  Yahoos.  Mean 
while,  let  us  begin  with  them." 

"You  have,"  said  the  dapple-gray,  "put  your 
finger  on  the  source  of  the  great  transformation 
which  has  come  over  us.  I  have  heard  my  grand 
father  tell  that  while  it  was  still  unsettled  what  policy 
should  be  enforced  towards  the  Yahoos,  and  not  long 
after  Gulliver  had  put  to  sea,  the  country  was  in 
vaded,  as  formerly  by  the  Yahoos  from  the  moun 
tains,  now  by  a  troop  of  diminutive  four-toed  Houyhn- 
hnms  (I  use  the  name  for  your  understanding)  —  a 
creature  undreamt  of,  issuing  from  remote  swamps ; 
in  numbers  to  be  compared  only  with  rats.  The 
wrords  of  remonstrance  which  in  all  reasonableness 
we  addressed  to  them  for  overrunning  our  planta 
tions  were  not  intelligible  to  them,  nor  did  they  ap 
pear  to  have  any  language  of  their  own,  beyond  vague 
cries,  nor  any  arts  or  civic  organization.  In  short, 
285 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

while  we  were  deliberating  whether  to  exterminate 
the  Yahoos,  we  were  in  danger  of  being  ourselves 
exterminated  by  creatures  bearing  our  own  image,  but 
manifestly  devoid  of  reason,  justice,  or  moderation. 

"By  the  utmost  exercise  of  force,  in  which  the 
Yahoos  themselves  were  found  indispensable,  we 
succeeded  in  destroying  a  great  many,  and  in  driving 
back  to  their  fastnesses  all  but  a  few,  who  were  re 
tained  captive  from  curiosity,  and  some  of  whose 
descendants  I  will  presently  show  you  as  we  go  up 
to  the  town.  But  it  was  impossible  after  that  for 
us  to  entertain  the  same  ideas  concerning  ourselves 
or  the  world  about  us.  We  compared  ourselves  with 
the  four-toed  enemy,  and  observed  a  difference  in 
mental  capacity  and  behavior  like  that  observed  in 
the  case  of  our  own  Yahoos  and  of  Gulliver.  This 
not  only  confirmed  the  belief  in  our  own  perfection, 
but  led  the  more  inquisitive  to  speculate  on  the  causes 
of  the  favor  we  enjoyed  over  all  created  beings.  My 
ancestor,  remembering  his  conversations  with  Gul 
liver,  conceived  there  might  be  something  in  the 
idea  of  a  Great  Spirit  as  entertained  by  the  foreign 
Yahoos;  and,  the  doctrine  being  urged,  a  division  by 
and  by  arose  that  has  lasted  to  this  time,  though  there 
are  now  few  who  deny  the  existence  of  a  Supreme 
Houyhnhnm.  Do  you  understand  what  I  mean?" 

"Perfectly,"  answered  Theophilus;  "he  is  what 
we  call  God." 

286 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

"Had  we  stopped  there,"  continued  the  dapple- 
gray,  "  all  might  have  been  well ;  but  from  that  specu 
lation  we  passed  to  considerations  of  what  happened 
after  death  —  whether  we  should  live  again  in  an 
other  form  not  subject  to  suffering  and  decay; 
whether,  as  we  maintained  degrees  of  subordination 
here,  —  the  white,  sorrel,  and  iron-gray  being  in  the 
lower  station,  and  not  admitted  to  intermarriage,  — 
the  same  thing  would  hold  in  a  future  life,  or  even 
whether  there  would  be  any  future  life  for  the  lower 
grades.  Upon  this,  other  divisions  grew  up,  some 
affirming  and  others  denying  a  future  life,  and  the 
lower  orders  maintaining  their  right  to  it  on  an  equal 
ity  with  the  higher.  Hence  a  disturbance  of  the  old 
relations,  frequent  controversies  over  rank  and  duties, 
attempts  to  intermarry,  and  such  passions  and  dis 
orders  that  it  began  to  be  seen  that  a  future  life  on 
this  pattern  would  not  be  worth  having. 

"A  new  sect  sprang  up,  having  for  its  doctrine 
that  the  future  life  was  indeed  for  all  Houyhnhnms, 
but  that  some,  the  rational-minded,  would  have 
a  tranquil  and  happy  existence,  while  the  turbulent 
and  contentious  would  be  visited  with  everlasting 
punishment.  Such  a  compromise  furnished  a  mode 
of  return  to  our  old  harmony  so  far  as  that  all  were 
given  a  chance  of  a  blissful  hereafter,  and  it  has  been 
adopted  by  all  save  a  small  minority,  who  profess 
simple  ignorance  of  the  whole  matter.  These  are 
287 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

generally  regarded  (by  myself  among  others)  as  cer 
tain  to  be  damned  eternally,  notwithstanding  their 
good  behavior  during  their  life  here. 

"  But  the  day  is  advancing,  and  we  should  be  going 
up  to  my  house  —  the  same,  only  made  over,  wrhich 
Gulliver  shared." 

The  way  led  through  a  park-like  country  with 
short  vistas,  along  a  well-beaten  road,  in  a  turn  of 
which  they  came  upon  an  enclosure  of  perhaps  three 
acres,  where  were  grazing,  or  running  at  large,  the 
tiniest  horses  ever  seen  by  the  eye  of  man.  They  had 
the  size  of  a  fox,  but  were  too  far  off  to  reveal  their 
digits. 

"Behold,"  said  the  dapple-gray  to  Theophilus, 
whose  conjecture  had  outstripped  the  announcement, 
"  the  degraded  travesty  of  the  Houyhnhnm  ! " 

He  would  have  passed  on,  but  Brocklebank  en 
treated  him  to  stay  for  a  nearer  view  of  these  extraor 
dinary  creatures.  The  beast  good-naturedly  com 
plied,  and  of  his  native  courtesy  summoned  help  to 
drive  the  little  troop  towards  the  nearest  portion  of 
the  field.  Upon  this  appeared  a  number  of  Yahoos 
wanting  little  of  the  odious  aspect  ascribed  to  them 
by  Gulliver,  and  proving  that  the  race  had  not  been 
exterminated.  They  had,  the  dapple-gray  explained, 
been  spared  for  their  aid  in  driving  off  not  only  the 
four-toed  invaders,  but  a  later  and  more  annoying 
(because  tree-climbing)  set  of  invaders  of  their  own 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

kind,  though  smaller  and  having  tails,  and  whose  very 
likeness  made  them  (so  it  seemed  to  the  lords  of  the 
island)  more  hateful  to  the  Yahoos. 

The  keepers  of  the  herd  had  no  difficulty  in  bring 
ing  them  to  the  paling,  and  Theophilus  viewed  with 
strange  emotions  what  Darwin  would  have  called 
a  "living  fossil,"  that  had  endured  so  long  "from 
having  inhabited  a  confined  area,  and  from  having 
been  exposed  to  less  varied,  and  therefore  less  severe, 
competition."  He  had  no  doubt  that  he  saw  in  the 
flesh  and  in  active  motion  that  very  Orohippus  major 
(Marsh)  whose  bones,  entombed  in  the  Eocene  for 
mation  of  Wyoming,  he  had  with  his  own  hands  disen 
gaged  to  be  shipped  to  New  Haven.  There  were  the 
four  toes  before  and  the  three  behind,  and  there  were 
the  large  canine  teeth,  indicating  that  the  mouth  still 
remained  the  animal's  chief  defence  for  want  of  the 
vigorous  single-toed  hoof  of  Equus.  Theophilus  ex 
plained  to  his  guide,  as  well  as  he  could,  the  strange 
circumstance,  and  was  no  less  surprised  than  de 
lighted  when  told  that  some  carcases,  having  escaped 
detection  for  burial,  had  been  picked  clean  by  ro 
dents  and  insects,  and  the  skeletons  thus  prepared 
had  been  saved  in  a  museum  not  far  off. 

In  fact,  the  building  which  answered  to  this  name 
contained  not  only  the  skeletons  in  question,  but 
(such  had  been  the  growth  of  curiosity  since  Gulli 
ver's  day  among  the  Houyhnhnms)  of  asses,  cows, 
289 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

and  even  some  of  the  Houyhnhnms  themselves,  and, 
along  with  skeletons  of  the  monkey  incursionists, 
others  of  the  Yahoos.  He  therefore  examined  with 
much  interest  the  bones  of  Orohippus,  when  his 
quick  eye  detected  a  rudimentary  fifth  toe  that  he 
had  overlooked  in  the  living  animal,  and,  pointing 
it  out  to  his  guide,  he  held  up  his  five  fingers  to  sug 
gest  the  parallelism.  Such  a  genus  had  not  been  un 
earthed  in  America,  and  he  was  charmed  with  the 
thought  that  he  might  some  day  connect  his  name 
with  it,  little  dreaming  that,  at  that  very  moment, 
Huxley  was  predicting  to  a  New  York  audience  its 
ultimate  discovery  (in  his  last  lecture  on  "  The  Di 
rect  Evidence  of  Evolution"),  and  that  Professor 
Marsh  would  promptly  bring  to  light  from  the  low 
est  Eocene  deposits  his  five-toed  Eohippus. 

"I  see,"  said  Theophilus  to  his  equine  friend, 
"that  the  resemblance  of  your  own  bodies  to  those 
of  your  little  enemy  has  not  escaped  the  notice  of 
your  savants  who  have  mounted  these  bones  here. 
Still  more  would  it  strike  you  if  you  could  see,  as  I 
have  seen  in  my  country,  a  row  of  skeletons  begin 
ning  with  four  toes  and  ending  with  Houyhnhnms, 
and  passing  through  all  the  intervening  sizes.  From 
that  we  make  bold  to  say  that  the  one-toed  is  derived 
from  the  four-toed  (or,  as  I  now  perceive,  from  the 
five-toed)." 

"The  absurdity  is  worthy  of  a  Yahoo,"  said  the 
290 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

dapple-gray  with  some  irritation,  "and  it  would  not 
be  prudent  to  mention  such  an  idea  to  anybody  but 
myself.  This  foreign  race  has  neither  mind  nor  rea 
son;  has  at  most  a  blind  instinct  like  that  of  rats, 
rabbits,  or  our  Yahoos." 

"  But,"  said  Theophilus,  "  looking  at  the  series 
grading  off  into  each  other,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that 
there  is  any  essential  difference  among  them,  and 
my  countrymen  do  in  fact  connect  them  together, 
while  acknowledging  the  Houyhnhnms  to  be  much 
the  most  advanced  and  noble  creation.  We  put  it 
in  this  way :  we  ask  ourselves,  Would  the  inhabitants 
of  another  world,  entering  our  museums  and  study 
ing  these  skeletons,  suspect  any  difference  —  I  do  not 
say  in  mind  or  reason,  but  in  community  of  origin  ?  " 

"Perhaps  not,"  answered  the  dapple-gray,  "but 
this  would  only  prove  how  little  such  rubbish  has  to 
tell.  Can  these  five-toed  dwarfs  build  houses,  cul 
tivate  the  soil,  make  vessels  of  clay,  compose  poetry, 
or  calculate  eclipses?  Judge,  then,  how  impassable 
is  the  gulf  between  us.  Greater  than  all  distinctions, 
however,  —  as  great  as  between  you  Gullivers  and 
our  Yahoos,  —  is  the  destiny  assigned  to  each,  prov 
ing  that  we  are  separate  creations,  with  no  other  than 
an  accidental  outward  resemblance.  For  who  can 
believe  that  these  brutes  are  to  live  hereafter,  or, 
more  ridiculous  still,  that  they  are  damnable  by  the 
Supreme  Houyhnhnm?" 

291 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

Theophilus  felt  that  the  debate  was  approaching 
dangerous  ground.  Still, 

"How  can  you  be  so  sure  of  that?"  he  inquired. 

"Because  salvation  and  damnation  are  reserved 
for  creatures  possessing  a  moral  sense." 

"But  is  the  moral  sense  lacking  in  such  as  live 
peaceably  among  themselves,  albeit  without  arts 
and  the  higher  knowledge?  Do  not  even  your  Ya 
hoos  obey  you,  as  your  servant  class  does,  and  is  there 
not  something  of  morality  in  their  subordination, 
however  much  inspired  by  fear  ?  " 

"You  waste  your  breath,"  said  the  steed;  "there 
can  be  no  moral  sense  without  language.  But  for 
that,  you  Gullivers  would  have  remained  simple 
Yahoos." 

"I  am  glad,"  remarked  Theophilus  with  a  smile, 
"  that  you  leave  us  some  hope  of  a  future  existence." 

"  I  am  not  certain  as  to  that :  it  is  a  question  which 
I  do  not  recall  ever  having  heard  debated.  But  of 
one  thing  I  am  positive,  that  you  are,  and  (if  you  live 
again)  will  be,  held  accountable  for  your  misdeeds, 
whereas  it  would  be  the  height  of  the  ridiculous  thus 
to  hold  our  Yahoos,  who  simply  act  out  their  own 
imperfect  natures." 

"Your  perfection,  suffer  me  to  say,  seems  to  me 
to  hang  upon  a  very  slender  difference  between  your 
selves  and  your  five-toed  enemies,  who,  if  they  can 
not  converse  among  themselves,  have  yet  a  voice, 
292 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

and  cries  of  warning,  rage,  and  affection,  that  are 
intelligible  to  them  and  easy  to  be  understood  by 
us." 

"  Be  the  difference  small  or  great,"  responded  the 
dapple-gray  tartly,  and  after  a  pause,  "  it  is  enough." 

"  But,"  urged  Theophilus,  "  suppose  you  only  ac 
quired  your  power  of  speech  ?  " 

"Impossible!  It  needed  a  special  act  of  creation. 
The  Supreme  Houyhnhnm  purposely  drew  the  line. 
Think  of  the  infinite  trouble  of  judging  the  deserts 
of  cows,  weasels,  rabbits,  fish,  and  Yahoos!" 

"What!"  exclaimed  Brocklebank,  "you  actually 
boast  of  a  possession  which,  while  it  crowns  your 
perfection,  brings  you  in  danger  of  everlasting  pun 
ishment  ?  " 

"And  do  you  do  otherwise?"  retorted  the  steed. 
"Look,"  he  continued,  pointing  to  the  skeletons  of 
monkeys  and  Yahoos ;  "  would  your  planetary  visitor 
not  see  a  likeness  in  these  creatures  to  yourself,  and 
infer  a  common  origin  with  as  much  certainty  as 
your  wise  heads  make  a  series  beginning  with 
Houyhnhnms  and  ending  with  our  five-toed  coun 
terfeits?  Tell  me,  do  you  ascribe  a  moral  sense 
to  these  long-tailed  Yahoos  —  I  had  almost  said 
Gullivers  ?  Or  do  they  perhaps  speak  in  your  coun 
try?" 

"  They  have  no  language." 

"Well,  then,  do  you  allow  them  a  moral  sense? 
293 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

do  you  concern  yourselves  about  what  becomes  of 
them  hereafter  ?  " 

"  We  do  not,"  confessed  Brocklebank  —  "  nor," 
he  was  tempted  to  add,  "about  our  Houyhnhnms, 
to  whom  we  at  least  atone  for  all  the  hardship  and 
cruelty  we  visit  upon  them,  by  sparing  them  the  glo 
rious  privilege  of  eternal  punishment  in  another 
existence." 

"And  wherein  does  your  perfection  lie  if  not  in 
speech  alone?  and  is  it  not  by  speech  that  you  are 
damned,  and  by  want  of  it  that  they  escape?" 

Brocklebank  in  his  turn  was  silent,  and  there 
leaped  to  mind  a  saying  of  the  savages  of  Luzon,  with 
regard  to  the  apes,  that  they  do  not  speak  for  fear 
of  being  obliged  to  pay  taxes.  At  length  he  resumed  : 

"As  respects  the  future  life,  perhaps  it  might  have 
been  better  if  language  had  been  denied  us." 

"  That  is  neither  here  nor  there.  You  would  have 
us  Houyhnhnms  acknowledge  our  kinship  with 
dumb  beasts  having  an  outward  resemblance  to  our 
selves  not  greater  than  that  between  yourselves  and 
these  tailed  Yahoos,  whom,  nevertheless,  you  do  not 
deny  that  you  do  not  include  in  your  scheme  of 
morality  in  this  life,  or  of  salvation  in  the  next." 

"I   must   admit,"    said    Brocklebank,   "that   our 

perfection  rests  on  the  same  basis  as  yours  —  that 

is,  on  language ;  and  that  theology  was  invented  for 

those  who  talk.   We  have  an  old  poem  containing 

294 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

the  Debate  of  the  Body  and  the  Soul,  which  hints 
at  this.  'I  should,'  says  the  Body — 

"'I  should  have  been  but  as  the  sheep, 

Or  like  the  oxen  or  the  swine, 
That  eat  and  drink,  and  lie  and  sleep, 

Are  slain,  and  after  know  no  pain; 
Nor  money  cared  to  win  or  keep, 

Nor  knew  the  odds  of  well  or  wine, 
Nor  now  be  bound  to  belle  deep, 

But  for  those  cursed  wits  of  thine!' 

Yet  the  trouble,  after  all,  lay  not  with  the  Soul's  wits, 
but  with  the  Body's  vocal  organs  —  for  we  cannot 
deny  wits  (i.  e.,  intelligence,  comprehension,  ideas) 
to  the  dumb  creation." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  Theophilus  observed  a  strange 
agitation  in  his  companion,  who,  by  virtue  of  his 
four  feet,  was  soonest  conscious  of  a  trembling  of 
the  earth  which  quickly  grew  until  to  the  human  sense 
also  it  wras  plainly  perceptible.  Both  hurried  to  the 
doorway  of  the  museum,  through  which  the  Houyhn- 
hnm  might  easily  have  preceded,  but  he  civilly  re 
fused  the  advantage,  and  Brocklebank  —  not  more 
by  his  own  volition  than  by  his  momentum  —  passed 
out,  and  just  in  time,  for  the  hut  fell  at  that  instant, 
entangling  the  belated  and  self-sacrificing  steed. 
The  shocks  were  now  so  violent  that  Brocklebank, 
longing  in  vain  to  extricate  his  two-fold  saviour, 
could  not  stand  upright.  The  sky  was  overcast.  In 
295 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

the  distance  a  light  like  that  of  an  eruption  was  visi 
ble.  The  cries  of  the  Yahoos  were  heard  on  all  sides, 
mingled  with  neighing  and  the  bellowing  of  kine. 
Theophilus  was  aware  of  a  general  movement  of 
creeping  things  past  him  shoreward,  then  of  a  reflex 
movement,  as  of  the  sea  pursuing.  In  fact,  the  land 
was  sinking;  and,  as  he  stood  up  to  meet  his  fate,  he 
was  lifted  upon  the  flood.  The  subsidence  was  grad 
ual,  but  effective,  and  in  a  few  hours  there  was  no 
thing  left  of  the  civilization  or  the  race  of  the  Houyhn- 
hnms,  or  of  their  peculiar  theology,  for  which  the 
universe  had  now  no  further  need. 

While  all  this  was  going  on,  the  passengers  on  the 
steamer  Sheol,  Burnham  master,  from  Port  Darwin 
bound  for  Liverpool,  were  terrified  by  successive 
shocks,  which  they  at  first  interpreted ,  as  did  the  cap 
tain  himself,  to  mean  that  the  vessel  had  grounded, 
but  to  which  they  presently  assigned  the  true  cause 
in  some  neighboring  earthquake.  Towards  the  close 
of  the  afternoon  an  extraordinary  shoal  of  carcases, 
mostly  horses,  was  encountered  —  so  great  that  no 
foundered  ship  could  have  contained  them  all.  In 
the  midst  of  them,  on  a  sort  of  natural  raft,  a  half- 
clothed  human  form,  more  dead  than  alive,  was  de 
scried;  and,  a  boat  having  been  lowered,  it  proved 
to  be  no  other  than  our  American,  who  was  taken  on 
board  and  tenderly  restored. 
296 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

Brocklebank  reached  New  York  by  Thanksgiving 
day,  which  he  celebrated  with  his  family  in  no  per 
functory  spirit,  while  they  were  not  a  little  alarmed 
for  his  sanity  by  his  strange  recital  of  what  had  be 
fallen  him.  He  paid  an  early  visit  to  Professor  Marsh 
at  New  Haven,  and  was  dumfounded  by  the  sight 
of  Eohippus  already  set  up  in  its  place.  Fearing  that 
scientist's  incredulity,  he  kept  silent  about  his  ex 
perience  with  the  "living  fossil,"  and  contented  him 
self  with  volunteering  to  join  the  next  Yale  expedi 
tion  to  the  Rockies.  Meanwhile,  he  pondered  much 
on  the  theological  problem  which  had  survived  the 
Houyhnhnm  cataclysm,  and  set  to  work  upon  a 
treatise  having  for  epigraph  that  query  of  Carlyle's, 
in  the  "  Latter-Day  Pamphlets,"  - 

"Am  I  not  a  horse  and  /KzZ/-brother ?  " 
this  couplet  of  Baudelaire's, 

"Nous  sommes  des  animaux, 
Voila  mon  systeme!" 

and  Darwin's 

"  —  but  man  can  do  his  duty"; 

and  beginning  with  the  following  extract  from  the 
sixteenth  chapter  of  Judd's  "  Margaret " :  — 

' '  What  is  God  ? '  said  Margaret  one  morning  to  the 
Master,  who  in  his  perambulations  encountered  her  just 
as  she  was  driving  the  cow  to  pasture,  and  helped  her  put 
up  the  bars. 

297 


THE  NEW  GULLIVER 

" '  God,  God  — '  replied  he,  drawing  back  a  little,  and 
thrusting  his  golden-headed  cane  under  his  arm  and  blow 
ing  his  nose  with  his  red  bandanna  handkerchief.  '  You 
shut  your  cow  in  the  pasture  to  eat  grass,  don't  you,  mea 
discipula?'  added  he,  after  returning  the  handkerchief  to 
his  pocket,  and  planting  himself  once  more  upon  his  cane. 

"'Yes,'  she  replied. 

"'What  if  she  should  try  to  get  out?' 

"'We  put  pegs  in  the  bars  sometimes.' 

" '  Pegs  in  the  bars  ?  ahem !  Suppose  she  should  stop  eat 
ing,  and,  leaning  her  neck  across  the  bars,  cry  out, ' '  O  you, 
Mater  hominum  bovumque !  who  are  you  ?  Why  do  you 
wear  a  pinafore  ?  "  •  —  in  other  words,  should  ask  after  you, 
her  little  mistress ;  what  would  you  think  of  that,  hey  ? ' 

"I  don't  know  what  I  should,'  replied  Margaret,  'it 
would  be  so  odd.' 

" '  Cows,'  rejoined  the  Master,  'had  better  eat  the  grass, 
drink  the  water,  lie  in  the  shade,  and  stand  quietly  to  be 
milked,  asking  no  questions.'" 


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